The Last Vanya
by Sian Glirdan
Summary: Before the Elves left their Waters of Awakening and Endor for a new world far to the west under the protection of the Valar, a darkness had already fallen upon them and some of their number were lost to them, never to be seen again. This is the tale of one of those Elves and her fate far from the light of the stars, deep in the bowels of Utumno and of Angband.
1. Chapter 1

"Quendu!" She had screamed at the strange ellon "I am of the Quendi too!" She was exhausted. Disgustingly filthy. She knew she was no longer that beautiful, gentle creature she had been so long ago. So much degradation and agony. They had changed her, poisoned her, abused her and left her eternally tainted and damned. But she was still at her core - no matter how much it might appear that she was forever lost - she was _still_ one of them. No matter that the cruel god's cursed poisons had leached the colour of her golden hair to this lustreless bone-white. Had turned her eyes blood-dark from the blue of water under clouds. No matter. She was still one of the Quendi.

She waited not knowing if she wished him to kill her or have mercy on her. She could only beg for one thing and she whispered it hoarsely over and over to him as she lay crouched and trembling at his feet.

"Kill me if you must but do not let them take my body… please… please not that! Do not let them take me and make me live again… please… please do not leave me here!" She knew she must sound mad but she could not stop herself - the terror still circled around her too closely. But this Elf did not know that. Would not understand why she was so distressed, so out of control.

A hand reached out to her and she recoiled from it, too used to receiving blows, not expecting anything kind or gentle. And she was too befouled for him to touch anyway. He had said she would be safe amongst them? Them? He was alone she thought… She risked a glance upwards, past his hand to his face. He had grey silvery eyes and his hair was very dark, like the sky when clouds hid the stars. He was alone here with her, but he was telling the truth. It was in his face and she knew her lost brethren would not lie, had no reason to. There must be others out of sight somewhere... Ignoring his hand she rose slowly, head bowed once more, not meeting his eyes now, for this was something that was not done where she came from. With difficulty she mastered herself, stood still for a moment and then spoke her voice low and hoarse, unused to speaking like she once had.

"We must go to the other Quendi quickly then – we are not safe here." Her voice dropped into the harsh whisper again "They may still be looking for me and so it is dangerous to be only two of us out here."

As she spoke she looked over her shoulder back in the direction of the great range of hills she had fled some time before, but she was almost certain that she had not been followed for a long time now. Tracked maybe, but she would have sensed them surely. The wind was blowing hard from the Dark Fortress, but she could not smell any more of the nightmare creatures that dwelt there, only her own stench and the Quendi. Many of them… Maybe this Elf was right. She was safe…?

His hand had dropped back to his side, but she knew he was still staring at her, trying to look in her eyes. Hesitantly she faced him and slowly brought her head up but kept her eyes downcast for a few moments, unwilling for him to see her worst disfigurement. Dreading his reaction to her, for she knew full well the toll her obscene captivity had wrought on her face, her whole being, leaving her only the vestiges of the body of an Elf. And she was one of the lucky thralls. Being female they could never risk changing her too much, for that would have rendered her useless to their foul schemes. The males were not so 'fortunate'.  
The dark-haired Elf was talking to her again. Kindly and gently. He told her his name. Nurbor. She was awash with shame and loneliness. It had been so long since anyone had addressed her as though she mattered, or had even wanted to talk to her without cursing her, or as a prelude to crushing her will, or beating her body.

Now the Elf called Nurbor was asking her for her name. At last she met his gaze for a few moments before she squeezed her eyes shut again, so she could not see the look of shock on his face as he saw the ruin of her once beautiful eyes at close quarters. They were the colour of dulled, dark-red, dried blood. Rank with death. He could not have failed to see for he was not much taller than she, not as tall as Giliathmen… No. She could not think of him. Must not.  
Nurbor asked for her name once more. His voice now was very soft and again he reached out to her.  
"No! Please!" She backed away in a panic and then did something she had thought herself no longer capable of. Tears streamed down from her eyes as she howled like a wounded animal, seeing the look of concern on the ellon's face as he took a few paces toward her. She collapsed at his feet again and curled herself into a shuddering, tight-knotted ball of anguished incoherent sobbing .

Nurbor knelt down beside her, feeling he should do something but reluctant to touch her, for that only seemed to distress her more.  
"What is your name elleth? How shall I call you?" He kept his voice soft, calm. It was clear that she had been through some terrible ordeal and he could not imagine how such changes could be made to one of the Quendi, but she was an Elf and badly hurt in some way. He made himself keep still since she seemed so distressed whenever he tried to touch her. Perhaps if he just kept talking to her quietly until she calmed down? "The others are just over this hill behind us. I am of Finwë's kin." He looked at her, wondering if she might have been close kin to him. Maybe not, although her unnatural hair colour could be deceptive. Perhaps she was… had been Vanyar? Or Teleri? He spoke again, still keeping his voice quiet and gentle, not wanting to distress her any more.  
"Ingwë's kin are there too… and Elwë and Olwë's folk follow a little way behind us."

Nurbor's voice was calming her and now he was not trying to reach out to her, she was gradually getting herself back under control. Silent now, she heard him say names she knew and she inhaled sharply as he mentioned Ingwë. Why were they here, so far from Cuiviénen? She breathed deeply now trying to will herself to respond to Nurbor.  
"Elleth? Will you come back with me now?"  
She uncurled a very little and looked at his knees in front of her. Head hanging down she raised herself until she was also kneeling. The tears had left white tracks on her dirty face and he saw that her skin was also very pale, almost white, but lacked the lustre of the Quendi. This time, though his heart went out to her, he resisted the urge to reach out to the poor ruined creature and just watched her carefully, instinctively knowing she was terrified of something. She was shaking with fear in fact, but she appeared to be trying to master it, though she would not look at him.

"I will come back with you… Nurbor." Her voice was gradually coming back, less hoarse but still husky and low. Tentative and halting. "I had a name… once. But she died… I… died. I am not who I was… not anymore."  
At last she looked at him again and this time met his silvery-grey gaze. There was no anger, no hatred or contempt in his eyes and this made more tears come, but this time with relief rather than humiliation or despair. She knew he was trying his best to help her and she did not have anywhere else to go. Did not have anyone else to go to. Not any more.  
They gazed steadily at each other for a few moments and then he smiled slowly at her. A kind smile that a friend would give to a friend. The effect on her was too much and she stood up hastily, wiping her tears away impatiently. For the last time she looked back to the north, the wind blowing strongly into her face so even her matted filthy white hair was lifted and snaked away behind her. Nurbor looked at her, wondering where it was she had come from, what she was running from. Or whom.  
She was not really looking at anything at all. She felt numb now. Like the dead person she had told Nurbor she was. She had not had a name for so long. Had not needed or wanted one. The name she had given herself when she had lived at Cuiviénen was not one she wished to remember. Or wanted anyone else to remember for that matter. Best that elleth was forgotten altogether. Those whom she had loved most were not here to remember her anyway. But she needed a name if she was to return to the Quendi. Her old self-given name had held meaning for her in her old life. Had reflected her nature.

There was nothing here except windswept, stunted trees and bushes clustered together in little groups on otherwise bare hills and dried grass. The clouds had mostly blown away now and the stars were once more blazing down from the heavens. Some of the rough thorn bushes were bearing little white flowers, ill-formed in driving winds. The colour stirred a memory and she laughed, a harsh sound, more like a fox's bark. She tried to remember what the bushes were called. Thorns. Snow Thorn? She turned to Nurbor at last and spoke quietly.  
"I suppose I should have a name again. Call me Aeglos."

They had walked over the hill together and, like he had said, she saw a sight unparalleled at any other time. From the eastern horizon to the western they were marching - the Quendi. She nearly turned and fled, but Nurbor kept on talking to her and gradually her breathing calmed and she could speak again.

"So many! Did everyone leave Cuiviénen then?"

Almost in disbelief she listened to him as he told of the promise given to them by a Vala. Of the beautiful lands far, far to the West of the World, where they all could dwell without fear and in the bliss of undying, everlasting peace with the other Shining Ones to watch over them and keep the Dark Lord at bay forever. Nurbor had no need to tell her who the Dark Lord was. Aeglos knew that well enough. And that there was not one Dark Lord, but two, the other hardly lesser in his malice and cunning.

"But how do you know these Valar tell you the truth? You are passing close by lands of great evil now – how do you know this… 'god'… Oromë is not leading you into a trap?

Apparently some Elves had thought the same as she and remained in Cuiviénen. She looked at the Noldo in astonishment as he spoke in awe of this 'god', Oromë. She only knew of one god and he was not one to trust, much less love, as it seemed most of the Quendi appeared to regard this bright spirit who rode at the head of the leaders of this march into the west, riding on a great white horse with Ingwë ever at his side. However, she also knew Ingwë was no fool. How often had she had cause to rue her own disregard of his counsel? But Giliathmen had been so sure they would be safe if they left the Lake within a large enough group of fellow Vanyar.

Nurbor explained to her how Ingwë and two others representing the Noldor and the Telerí had been spirited away by this Oromë to these fabled 'Blessed Lands', where evil was unknown and the Quendi could live unmolested by the forces of the Dark Lord. There, they had seen with their own eyes the beauty and peace of those pure, blissful lands. So much so, that when they returned with Oromë to Cuiviénen, the light of those lands shone from their very eyes and convinced most of their kin to undertake this Great Journey. Indeed, the ellon spoke earnestly, the Valar had already, beyond doubt, proved worthy of the trust of the Quendi, as they had captured the Dark Lord and imprisoned him beyond the Circles of the World.

At this Aeglos laughed scornfully… although now she thought of it, it had been long since the Dark One had been seen in the deep reaches of his fortress, so far as she knew anyway. But her own torment had grown more as the years passed, not less, and so, she had reasoned in her sour delusion, this was perhaps a matter of simple boasting made from the comfort of some other realm of godhood, where they could withstand the Dark One's might. If Ingwë and the others were convinced, and had persuaded all these others to follow them so far from the Lake, then perhaps these Valar were everything they claimed.

Aeglos hesitated, not knowing how she could accept that she might be within reach of safety after so long living in torment. Hesitantly she turned and looked deep into the grey eyes of this kinsman, who was the first being in so long to have been kind and respectful to her, and saw that he had full belief in the truth of these extraordinary claims. And there was this enormous host of Elves, all following their chieftains to show that he was one amongst thousands who believed as well and had committed to this long, long journey. So many people. Her people.

"And you are sure of this Nurbor? That these Valar will keep us safe on the other side of this world?"

"Finwë is convinced of it. And so is Ingwë and Elwë. We all believe in them. That we will all have a better life with the Valar in their lands, than to stay here in darkness and fear. The light of these Blessed Lands shines in their eyes still - and we all can have that too if we follow Oromë." In turn he gazed into her strange red eyes and spoke to her more softly. "You are of the Quendi and so you may join our Journey. You still have close kin amongst the clans who would take you in surely?"

"Perhaps…" She whispered the word, worrying once more that she was too lost in evil to return. Too defiled. Too ruined. "I do not know. I must have kin yes… but will they accept me again? As I am now?"

"You are still of the Quendi. I can see it and so will others."  
He smiled at her again and this time she did not shy away, though her own face had seemingly forgotten how to smile. "Maybe…" He stopped and grinned at her, then chuckled at his inadvertent thought "Maybe you should bathe first – so they can see the elleth underneath all that dirt?"


	2. Chapter 2

She had nodded and then smiled at him when he said she should bathe, not minding the observation at all – how could she, for he was perfectly correct? He had pointed out a small pool in a stream and she had plunged into the cold, clear waters still clad in her ragged clothing for they were as dirty as she was. There was a plant she knew by sight, though she could not remember the name and she grabbed several of them, piercing the stems with tough sharp nails and then rubbed them vigorously until they foamed. She had pulled the wet clothes off and scrubbed all over her body and hair with the foaming plants. So clean! If felt good after so long a time to simply feel the touch of clean, clear water.  
She caught sight of herself in the water and inhaled sharply as she shut her eyes. Then opened them again, hesitantly, shyly. The wavering reflection was far too pallid, but her eyes at least were indistinct in the ripples and for the first time she began to hope that perhaps the Quendi might accept her if she could get her smell right again. That perhaps in time the 'wrongness' of her skin and hair and eyes might be overlooked, so long as her general shape was Elven and she did not seem too different. She had submerged herself then, letting the foam float all the filth away from her skin and from her hair. Then she had turned to her dirty ragged tunic and leathers and had cleaned them as far as she could. They were beyond saving really but, hopefully, if she was accepted again she could get new clothing.

In her head it had been simple enough. Even as Nurbor had led her, still dripping wet, down that hillside and hailed a family of Vanyar who were closest to them, she had been hopeful as they looked at her curiously. They nodded at her, a little surprised, but prepared to be friendly it seemed as the dark-haired ellon had introduced her by her new name. The elleth carried a small Elfling in her arms and had an older child, a boy, looking to be around five or six years old, who looked at Aeglos with fascination for he had never seen red eyes before. And of course he said so. She had laughed then, her voice still awkward and harsh and he had jumped at the strange sound she made and she closed her mouth abruptly and hung her head. His mother had looked at Aeglos meaning to apologise, putting her hand out sympathetically, meaning to clasp her shoulder gently but Aeglos flinched away, her groan sounding more like a snarl to the others and the boy-child's father had pulled him away from her as he asked why she was making a noise like a wolf.

"I am sorry!" Her voice was a croak and she cringed inwardly at the harsh sound. In a panic she looked at the other elleth, her face full of anguished contrition. "I have lived with wild beasts too long and forgotten how to speak gently. Please… I did not mean to alarm you, especially not your little ones." That was true enough, but now the babe had begun to cry and her mother, confused but realising that Aeglos had not intended to frighten her children, looked to her mate for reassurance.  
"That I can see… Aeglos?" He looked at her closely and she returned his gaze anxiously and began to panic again for his scrutiny became sharper, the longer he looked. Scared now, Aeglos had looked at Nurbor but he had simply smiled encouragingly at her and she looked back at the other tall, fair-haired ellon, trying to meet his stare frankly. He was shaking his head slowly.  
"Have we met before? Long ago, back at the Lake…?" He shrugged and smiled. "But then I think I would have remembered you for sure… your face is familiar somehow though…?" He shook his head more rigorously and smiled at her again. "No matter anyway. I daresay we would all be speaking as you if we had had to live with wild beasts."  
"We ha… have not met before… I am sure." She could not smile, but at least she managed to keep her voice more even by speaking quietly. Did she know him? Her eyes searched his face trying to recognise something, but it was no good. Her memory of the time before her capture was too hazy now. She could barely remember how Giliathmen had looked before even. The Vanya ellon was speaking to her again and she hastily re-focused her attention on him.  
"Well you are both welcome to walk with us a while and share our meal when we halt if you wish. Maybe you can tell us a tale of your adventures with these wild beasts Aeglos?"  
"No! I mean… I… cannot tell you any tales. They are not fit to be heard."

She was on her own again now and breathed much easier for that. Nurbor had done his best to ease her way with the little family. In fact they had all been really kind to her, but she had had to leave them. It was the food that had done it. She had had to starve herself in the fortress in order to escape the thraldom. To wean herself off the poisons they were fed to keep them docile and useful. When she had eluded those who pursued her after she had fled her prison, she had eaten whatever she could hunt as she had made her way south and eastwards.

Forehead bent into her drawn-up knees, shaking hands covering her still coarse matted hair she wept tears of humiliation and despair in equal measure. She had thought nothing of the raw meat, hares, rabbits, snakes, even insects that she had eaten so greedily and thankfully – she had known nothing else for so long after all and she had been so very hungry.  
The feeling of sickness and panic had begun as the elleth Sûlranna had prepared the meat for their cooking fire. She had been helping her skin the rabbits and badly wanted to start eating, but she could remember enough about the eating customs of her true people and resisted the urge to take a bite of the sweet juicy little coney. The smell of the cooking meat had nauseated her, but she had put that down to her excitement at being reunited with her clan, though both Sûlranna and her mate Aelial had exchanged surprised glances when she had cried out in dismay as they set the rabbits over the fire to roast. She had tried so hard to control herself; to stop herself for pulling one of the skewered pieces of meat away from the flames; to quell her shaking and compose her face into some semblance of calm as the smell of scorching meat began to make her want to retch. On seeing her distress Nurbor had sat beside her and talked quietly to her again and then tried to answer the questions from the two other Elves as they asked how he had met with her. Gently he had tried to explain why she did not to like to be touched, but of course he had no idea how much she longed to be held in strong yet tender arms, made safe from harm. But there were no arms now to do that for her. She was vile and disgusting and would taint any of her old kin she came near. She was sure of it now…

They had offered her bread first, but she had shaken her head, dark bloody eyes huge with hunger and fixed manically on the coneys, cooling from fire. Sûlranna had handed one over to her, face anxiously regarding the strange red-eyed elleth who seemed to be in some kind of appalled fascination with her hot supper. Her hands had been shaking almost uncontrollably as she took the skewer in both hands lest she drop it. But then her control had disintegrated as, insensible to the heat she had pulled the coney apart and stuffed it's rump into her mouth, biting into flesh and bone like a wolf, slavering with the hunger… and then…

Howling at the memory she hugged herself into a cringing, knotted ball of humiliated self-recrimination. … then she had literally spat the meat out back into the fire, gagging in disgust at the hot fat and dried-up taste. She had ejected the bones as well and again she wailed as she recalled how she had attacked the fire, ignoring the burns to her hands, trying desperately to get the scrawny pelvis away from those ruinous flames. It had taken both Nurbor and Aelial to pull her away and stop her doing herself any more harm.  
And what had she done? Spat at them too, cursed them with words they could not understand, but could discern the meaning of well enough from her blazing eyes, glowing like red-hot coals now, her mouth and face contorted into a snarling mask of frustration and hunger as she hit out at them, scratching and punching like some demented animal.

In the end the two ellyn had managed to subdue her and she had wept once more as she saw the scratches and bruises on their faces that _she_ had inflicted on _them_. Sûlranna's children were crying as well, across the scattered fire where their mother was rocking them gently, stroking them tenderly into calm again. The sight of the elleth and her children wounded Aeglos as nothing else could and had her turn her face guiltily away from Nurbor as he asked what she had been thinking of. And still he was not angry with her, only worried and confused. Aelial, understandably, was not quite so conciliatory and had addressed her more sternly.

"Why are you behaving so Aeglos? We invited you to break bread with us and share our meal and this is your thanks? Answer me!"  
"So sorry! I am so sorry!" She was shuddering with self-loathing and faintness now as her empty stomach growled in protest and yearning at the food it could no longer tolerate yet still raged for. Her voice was virtually incoherent as she struggled to command herself once more. Aelial's look of outrage had begun to soften and echo Nurbor's look of concern as they both saw the depth of her contrition and fear.  
"What is it my sister? What has been done to you by these... wild beasts you lived with?" Again he laid his hands on her, more gently this time, but still strong enough to keep her from trying to evade his touch. Holding one of her arms tightly he reached out for her chin with his other hand and made her turn her head to face him.

"Aeglos. Look at me. Open your eyes." The years of enforced obedience took over, though he spoke far more gently than her old oppressors had ever done. Slowly her eyelids opened and Aelial looked deep into the now dulled garnet eyes and saw her fear, the humiliation and despair and profound sorrow. And the terror.  
"Please do not send me away…" She could barely speak now and her voice was cracked with rue. He held her gaze now, though she wished she could look away, for she could see he was beginning to understand. His grip on her arm and jaw relaxed a little though he held her still. Very quietly, so only she and perhaps Nurbor could hear him he spoke the words she had been dreading…

"I remember you now… you were Giliathmen's mate were you not?" She had no knowledge, no memory of him from before, but she knew he was right. He had known her. Known Giliathmen better. She could not speak but she did not need to. He could see his answer in her eyes, no matter how much they had been changed. His gaze was compassionate now, and his hand on her arm was gentle as his fingers stroked her too pale skin and let go of her face so she could bow her head and cry quietly now with exhaustion and shame.  
"He was my good friend once, but he left the Lake. Said it was not safe anymore. Not safe for you and your unborn child… Oh my dear! What happened? What happened to him and to your child?"He stopped as Aeglos began to utter great quivering sobs, but pulled her deeper into his arms, despite her weakened struggling to get away, rocking her back and forth until her weeping began to ease a little.  
"But you were not Aeglos then… You were Fae… something…" He spoke softly to her now and loosened his hold, letting her move away from him a little. He dipped his head trying to look at her again but this time she would not meet his grey-eyed gaze.  
"She is dead now… long ago… like Gil… I cannot be her… not anymore."

He stared at her as though she were mad.  
"He is dead? Ai! My poor brother!" Aelial finally let her go and she backed away from him as though he had burned her. Weeping himself now, Aelial looked at her beseechingly. "We were friends! Fae… Fa..en… I do not remember your whole name now, but he always called you Fae! Please! Tell me what happened to him… to your child!" She was shaking her head at him as she scrabbled in the dirt to get up. Get away from him. But Sûlranna had come over, still carrying the baby, the little boy trailing behind her. The elleth hugged her mate with her other arm and turned to the other elleth, her eyes tearful, pleading.  
"Can you not say what happened? Maybe it would help you remember as well? Where have you been so long?"

"No! Please! I cannot! Don't make me remember!"  
Aelial had calmed now in his mate's embrace and he could speak again. "I am sorry… Aeglos. I did not mean to frighten you. Hurt you. But I knew Giliathmen well and it is a deep pain to me to know he has gone. Why did he have to leave with the others?! He should have stayed with us!" He patted Sûlranna's arm and moved over to Aeglos again and took her hand in his. She was crying silently again and did not resist his gesture. Aelial held her hand firmly and stroked it with the other.  
"I can see that you have suffered much. Far too much, my sister. Did he suffer too? Giliathmen?" She looked at him then and did not look away, though her sight was blurred with tears. He knew then and did not ask that question of her again. Nodding gently he spoke quietly again.  
"Ai! My dear. I am sorry. So sorry. Those were dark days and now it is too late for some. Then you were taken? And Giliathmen and your child died?"  
"Please… don't…"  
"Then it is true… you lost them both… and this… damage… cruelty was done upon you… Who took you Fae… Aeglos…" He was weeping with her again but his voice was strong. Undeniable.

She was shaking her head and her mouth and throat felt as though they were filled with ashes, but she knew she would answer. Just this once. A whisper.

_"The Rider…"_

She had fled then, but not far and the two ellyn had followed her for a short distance and noted where she stopped.

"Best leave her for now, friend Nurbor." Aelial's face was infinitely sad and he sighed as his mate came to him. He held her for long moments, nuzzling her hair with his cheek for comfort and then spoke again. "Go back to our fire and rest my love. I am ill company with this news, so would you go with Nurbor and I will return to you by the time we move off again – I will bring her back with me - if I can. I will stay here and keep watch on her… see if she needs company again… I do not know what can be done for her but I will try to find out for Giliathmen's sake… for his memory…"  
"You should take her to Ingwë Aelial" Sûlranna's voice was soft and full or concern. "If he does not know what to do then the Vala will. She is too wild… too… ruined. I… am very sad for her, but… I do not want her near our children, my husband. I am afraid of her." Her soft grey eyes were large in the starlight and he saw clearly how she felt and why. He could not chide her for her rejection of one who had behaved in such an alien, bestial manner, even though she was kin and so obviously in need of aid. He bit his lip and nodded. He looked back to where Aeglos had halted and could see she was still crouched there, remote and forlorn under the stars.  
"I understand my dear. Nevertheless I will stay and see that she is safe. If she will talk to me again, and will agree, then I will take her to Ingwë – you are right about that."

Now she was alone again she began to calm a little, but this only made her misery and despair worse. She must have been mad to think that the Quendi would take her back. Her stomach curled and growled with hunger and finally she could stand it no more and turned her attention to a large stone nearby. At least she might find some worms underneath, if nothing else. She pulled a long knife from under her tunic and then slowly began to push at the stone, testing its weight and balance to know where best to push it over. Gradually she shoved it over listening and watching like a wild cat ready to pounce. There was a tell-tale slither of scales and suddenly she pushed harder and toppled the stone over altogether and as swiftly brought her sharp-edged knife down, taking the snake's head off in one blow. Triumphant now, she grasped the still twitching body, brought the bleeding end to her mouth and sucked gratefully on the cooling blood for a few moments and then took a large bite, gulping it down like a starving wolf. She was hunkered down still, but suddenly became aware that somebody else was about – another elf. Looking over her shoulder she saw that Aelial had returned but was sat on the ground, just watching her. Turning back to her meal she made short work of it. It was only a foot or so long, but it was enough to keep the worst hunger pangs away for now. She had thrown her knife to the ground after despatching the snake and for some reason she left it there. Aelial was approaching her.

He had not seen her eat the snake although he guessed she had pushed the stone over for some reason or other. Another puzzle. She was one big mystery in fact and he was achingly aware that something really bad had been done to her. He did not attempt to be quiet as he walked over to her and he moved slowly so as not to alarm her. She was looking at him now and did not look as though she would run. He saw blood all around her mouth and a few little drops on her tunic and quickened his pace until he stood in front of her. As he crouched down he glimpsed her long vicious-looking knife and his concern for her grew.  
"Have you hurt yourself Aeglos?" He tried to keep his voice quiet and reassuring, wondering what on earth she had done to herself now.  
She hung her head and shook it slowly.

"You have blood on your face… Oh!" He had seen the snake's head and a trail of trickled blood and gave an involuntary shudder as realisation dawned. "But we gave you food? You watched us cook it…?"  
"I… have eaten raw meat for so long. I thought I could still eat as I did at the Lake…"  
"But you could not? Is that it? Aeglos?"  
She was silent a few more moments and then answered almost inaudibly, close as he was to her.  
"It made me feel sick the minute your mate put it on the spit…" Slowly she raised her head and looked into Aelial's worried face. "I ate the snake. I was so hungry Aelial, I wanted to eat the rabbit, but it tasted horrible to me."

She still felt hungry but she could control it now. She saw him looking at her knife. It was not an elven knife. Its blade was black for a start and its cutting edge was serrated like tiny teeth. Its tip was a cruel flattened hook. The haft was crude, wrapped with old dirty leather. There was an evil look to it and he could not take his eyes of it now.  
"Where did you get your knife?" He almost dreaded the answer.  
"It was Giliathmen's"  
"This is not the knife of an Elf surely?"

She sighed softly, wondering at herself for telling him even that much. But he said he had known her former mate and he was obviously very sad over his death. Maybe she should say what had happened to his old friend. Almost in disbelief she went on, trying to explain how it had been.  
"No it is not an elven knife. It is from the Dark God's fortress. Far, far away to the north of here."  
"This… Dark God – he is the Rider?"  
"No. A servant of the god."  
"But you said the knife belonged to Giliathmen. He was with you in this fortress?"  
She nodded miserably then went on."Yes – the whole time I was there. We left together. Escaped. He helped me escape and gave me the knife. But he had changed too much and knew he could not go with me."  
"Changed too much? How? Was he like you then?" Aelial was trying hard not to show his anger now.  
"He was no longer an Elf. He knew he could not come back, but hoped that I would be able to. But he could not go back to the fortress. He did not want to die then live again. He gave the knife to me and asked me to kill him…"  
**"What?!" ** He could not stop himself shouting the single word, but he struggled to regain control of himself. "I am sorry… you surprised me. Please... I need to understand this. I need to know what happened to him. Please… go on. I will listen to you and try not to interrupt."

"I cannot tell of it." The mutilated eyes begged him not to press her and her voice was barely audible. "You will hate me…"_  
_"Why should I hate you? Aeglos? Unless you mean…"

She would not look at him now and he had his answer. So many feelings swept over him he could not speak, did not know what to say, how to react. He felt faint and realised he needed to breathe. In his turn he looked away, feeling that he could not bear to look on her anymore. He almost got up and left her but something stopped him. She made a sound, harsh and guttural and still he refused to turn back until he realised she was crying, once again curled into a bereft, humiliated ball. He knew then that he had to hear what had happened to her and her husband, to their child, no matter what, no matter how hard it was to hear or to tell. Slowly, he turned back to her and spoke as gently as he could.  
"Aeglos. Why did Giliathmen want to die and why did you do as he asked?"  
"Please, no…"  
"Listen to me! Aeglos!" Slamming back another wave of revulsion he seized her by the upper arms, wanting to shake her hard, but then he saw her terror again and somehow he managed to rein back his anger and grief. Still holding her tightly he took another deep breath and spoke with more control, knowing now that this killing was not something she had done lightly, however incredible that might seem to him or to any other Elf.

"You have spoken of many things and I can see that whatever you and your mate suffered in this dark god's fortress was truly terrible. Please – you may not remember me from Cuiviénen, but I remember you and I remember Giliathmen more. You are my kin… Fae… Fae…nelloth! Faenelloth!"  
In triumph at last he remembered her name.

"She is dead! She died long, long ago! Please stop… Please."  
She was sobbing uncontrollably now and he flushed with shame at forcing this on her, but he knew the telling was as much for her benefit as for his. Even more so. He loosened his grip slightly and she sagged into him, so he adjusted his grasp further and held her close, so they did not have to look at each other. He waited a little while until she was growing calm and tried again, his voice soft and full of compassion now.  
"If she is dead, there are still those who will remember her with honour and love. And the same for Giliathmen. Aeglos? Do you understand? Our people should hear of what became of them, should they not? Especially if they died in horror and pain? Aeglos should tell us what was done to them, how they came to die… and maybe somehow… something can be done?"

Her hair was coarse and lifeless under his hands and he could hardly believe any Elf could be so changed, so corrupted. His skin almost wanted to recoil from where it touched her, yet still he held her, offering silent comfort, knowing she needed help and friendship so much. She was quiet now and he carried on talking.  
"Sûlranna thinks that I should take you to Ingwë. That he will know what to do. Or Lord Oromë will."  
He felt her flinch at the name of the leader of the Vanyar, but she made no effort to leave his arms. Slowly now he went on, giving her a chance to respond if she wished.  
"They will ask questions of you Aeglos. Many of our kin left when you and Giliathmen did… when Faenelloth and Giliathmen left I mean. I know the telling of their ending must be hard for you… I can see how much it pains you… so this is why I am asking you to tell me now… just the one time… and then, when we go to Ingwë, maybe I can tell of this on your behalf."

He could feel fresh tears where she shed them on his skin, but she made no other sound. Still he waited and finally she gave a little sigh and spoke softly, haltingly.  
"If I tell you… I must tell you all of it… else you may not understand how it was for them. For us… me…"  
He smiled, not shifting position as he knew she needed a little space. "This time I promise I will not interrupt you Aeglos." He laughed softly. "Well not too much anyway."

She did not want to tell of this. When they had taken their chance and fled the fortress, she and Giliathmen had not had any real plan beyond getting away as fast and as far as they could. Certainly she had never dreamt of being able to return to the Quendi. They had been pursued at first. Or rather she had been. Females were too rare. Too 'precious'. Giliathmen's absence probably had not raised any alarm but hers… Her disappearance had been discovered within a few hours. They had known it would be and so they had made a pact with each other. If it seemed they might be taken prisoner again then they would both die and in such a way that they could not be brought back. She had kept her side of the pledge, even though he could not. But how could she explain this to anyone who had not been there... not known what it was like...  
"I will have to start at the beginning then I suppose. Tell you what happened after they left the Lake."  
"Please. Take as long as you need Aeglos."

She nodded solemnly and tried to arrange her thoughts. This was still difficult for her, though the poisons had long been purged from her body, still she fled from her terrible memories. But Aelial was right. If she was to live with the Quendi again she had to find a way to explain how she had been changed. If these other gods were the wise and strong friends that Nurbor, Aelial and Sûlranna trusted in, then maybe there might be some hope for others in the dark fortress. However strange and futile that sounded. She and Giliathmen had escaped after all. Aeglos thought hard for several moments then took a deep breath and went back to the day the world had fallen apart for her and her former mate…


	3. Chapter 3

They had been walking for several days. Faenelloth had not wanted to leave the Lake in the first place but Giliathmen and the others had persuaded her that it would be safe to travel north in a large group. The reason she had been so doubtful about setting out was simple. She was heavy with child and knew that it was not long until it was born. Giliathmen truly felt for her, but so many of the Quendi were beginning to disappear from Cuiviénen and there were ill rumours flying everywhere of a Hunter and a Dark Rider. Faenelloth may have been worried about leaving the Lake, but in a way she almost feared staying more, especially as so many of their kin were preparing to leave. And so, in the end she had agreed to go, much to her mate's relief.

At first hopes were high for new lands where they might be safe from the dangers that seemed to loom large around their old home. Their way seemed easy enough and Faenelloth and Giliathmen were beginning to feel more comfortable in their choice, as they walked through dusky green woodlands and with the great sea still in view. It still seemed familiar territory somehow, but as they left the Lake farther behind and moved ever northwards, the trees started to thin and the lands grew more open. At first Giliathmen had relished the wide expanses of land opening up before them, but as they walked on, some of the Quendi began to feel exposed and vulnerable and the group seemed to want to contract and gather closer together. Some began to murmur about returning to the Lake, but they had agreed to keep together and so they marched onwards.

And then it had happened. The skies had been clouded over and the bright stars were hidden, yet still they had all felt the approach of a greater darkness. Of something or someone evil. First there was a passing of a great shadow in the sky, then on the bare hillsides behind them and finally it was as though there was a great tide of darkness surrounding them and pursuing them across the now vast empty expanse. They had begun to hurry, then to run. Faenelloth, encumbered as she was could not keep up with the others and gradually she and Giliathmen were outpaced and fell behind the rest.  
"Do not leave me Gil!"_ S_he had called out to him as her legs nearly failed her over a rough patch of ground and she had almost fallen. He slowed his pace to one she could match and clasped her hand more tightly.  
"I will never leave you muin nín, but we must keep moving. Please try Fae." His voice had been tight and strained as he looked over his shoulder…

She had no time to reply and could not remember what had happened next for they had both been enveloped in black and she had lost consciousness for a while. When she came to herself there were wild screams and squeaks coming from several dark creatures that appeared misshapen through the murk, circling all around them. Like no creatures she had ever seen. Gil had been laying over her, as if he was shielding her but he felt heavy. The creatures were closing in on them and she tried to make him move, but he would not. She felt a scream beginning to build inside of her as her hands became sticky with blood as she touched her mate's head and neck and she realised he was not breathing. Something touched her leg and her scream escaped, strangely muffled in the darkness, but it was enough to drive the strange creature off for a few moments. Their awful shrieking suddenly died away as something else approached them.

Blacker than the blackness she could see it, taller even than the tallest of the Quendi yet thin and stooped, with glowing eyes of fire boring into her. But the worst thing was this new creature's voice. It was laughing and never had she heard such a cold, cruel sound. Like the grinding of rocks. One of the misbegotten shadow creatures tried to come near her again and there came a cracking sound and the monster fled howling in pain. But not very far. The others were circling them still but the tall being with the fiery eyes came right up to them and bent over her. It was still laughing and Faenelloth instinctively shrank away from it, but to no avail. A dark hand came towards her neck and lifted her up bodily, fingers splayed under her jaw and easily reaching around to the back of her neck, not quite choking her, until her feet were dangling well off the ground and she was struggling in vain. Then it spoke and she went limp with fear as the shadow creatures began their shrilling anew, seemingly in amusement at their master's words, his breath hot and smoky in her face, the sound harsh and mocking.  
"Rest now elleth. Thou shalt not be harmed. Not yet. We have waited for one such as thee for a long time. A long time indeed."

He began to laugh again as she fainted away. Adjusting his hold on her so she and the child she carried were cradled in his arms he walked unhurriedly back to his winged mount, kicking his minions away as they tried to nip and lick at her.  
"Leave her be, worms! She is not for such as thee! Bring the male and bite at him if thou wishest!" Again he laughed, in triumph this time, as he felt the babe move inside the elleth. A female elfling! Oh yes! Here was a prize indeed! "This female is a rare treasure and our Lord will be well pleased with us! Come we must hurry now!"

He bestrode the great winged creature as the thralls jumped onto its huge body as well, dragging the ellon roughly after them. Giving the command, they disappeared into the darkness once more, rising quickly up into cloudy skies, then hurtling westwards back to their stronghold.

"They killed him?"

Aelial had been silent as Aeglos had told of the large numbers of the Vanyar who left the Lake after a spate of mysterious disappearances. There had been rumours of the Rider or a Hunter who appeared shortly beforehand whenever this happened, and so he had not been prepared for her saying that there were several beings and a winged creature too who had attacked her and her spouse. And killed Giliathmen…  
"Or was he wounded? You said you killed him though?"

She could not reply at first, for even this little part of her story had been so difficult for her to recall. He waited for her to speak, feeling yet more tears falling though she was quiet enough. Finally she sighed and spoke softly.  
"He was dead. They killed him that time…"

How could she find a way to explain what had been done. Over and over again. Aelial said nothing, waiting for her to go on.

"The dark god and his demon are strong. They have power over life and death. All those who were lost… Giliathmen too… and… Faenelloth… They all died. Most of them as soon as they were taken. Like Giliathmen."  
"But not you? Faenelloth I mean. Sorry." He did not understand her, but he was trying hard and he knew, if he did not talk through Aeglos, Faenelloth would not be able to tell her tale.  
"Not Faenelloth, no. She was female. Females were always handled with… care. At first anyway… and she was carrying a child…" This ended in a sob and Aelial stroked her head gently, until she could go on.  
"They killed all of us in the end. It was necessary because… because of our fëar… they had to… break them… And then… they could raise our bodies back into life. And each time they did that… our fëar were… diminished. With the males this happened again and again Aelial… and they poisoned all of us… to weaken our wills… To change us…"

She was growing agitated, anxious, but she kept going because she needed to make him understand now…

The elf was near her time and he knew that his actions now might prove crucial. They had been so close to success before, had thought they had solved every problem, removed every stumbling block and still, still, perfection had eluded them. The thralls were still worrying the corpse of the ellon and his mind swatted them away once again. They knew better than to consume newly dead comrades, but still they would taste and suck and usually that would not matter. But this time it did. This ellon had had a mate to defend and so he had fought much harder than usual and he had not been able to pull his thralls off the body before the elleth had realised what had happened. She knew he was dead. So he would have to proceed very carefully now.

They were still hours from their destination so there was still time, whilst the elleth was still senseless. That was not a problem, he could keep her in that state indefinitely, but he could sense the child was nearly ready to be born and it was vital now her mother should not have a chance to realise their plight and take her own and her unborn child's life. As all the other pregnant elleths had done. But they had not been so close to their time as this one and neither had they been pregnant with their mate's children. Like this one. He was still holding the elleth and she stirred. Quickly he sent her mind reeling back into unconsciousness and then he focused on the much smaller, unformed mind that was scrabbling in panic at the extended absence of its mother. Delicately, for he could still be so if he had need, he insinuated his thought into the infant brain and began to systematically undo the fragile bond between the child and its mother that had only recently begun to form, so close to birth…

_Hush little one I will care for thee now. Trust in me and only me now. I, Sauron will be thy mother and thy father henceforth and see thee safely into a world where thou shalt be a queen and ever have thy hearts desire. Thy bearer is not to be trusted now. She wilt seek to destroy thee and so thou shalt only put thy trust in me and my Lord Melkor. We art thy family now and thou wilt be our dearest and most exalted treasure!_

The tiny mind stirred as the bright, godlike thoughts stroked its pleasure reflexes and he smiled as she responded to his ministrations.  
_Love me like mother?_

_Better than mother little one. Much, much better. I am thy mother and thy father now, I, Sauron, and Lord Melkor wilt be thy guardians and we wilt ensure that thy every desire shalt be granted. The one thou callest mother is but a vessel, and she is not to be trusted now for she will seek thy destruction. When thou art called thou must resist her when she calleth thee to follow her into the accurséd Light. Remember this, my little one. My sweet. Thou must come to me and not follow the one thou hast called mother falsely. Only I, Sauron and our Lord, Melkor loveth thee now. Who ist thy mother and thy father now little one?_

_Sauron loves me…Sauron is mother._

_That is right little one. I, Sauron love thee. I am thy mother and thy father. No one else. Thy bearer's will must be resisted dost thou understand? She must bear thee and then thou wilt be with me and with Lord Melkor henceforth. Forever and ever. Understand little one?_

_Sauron is mother... Sauron loves me._

He smiled.

She woke in the nightmare that was now reality. Giliathmen was still close to her but he was gone. They had killed him. Why had they not killed her as well? The horrible voice replied to her thought as they flew high about the clouds on this foul winged creature.  
"Because thou art carrying something of infinite value to us female. And thine own body is also of great worth to our designs."  
"Not my baby!" She hissed at him and tried to struggle out of his iron grip. He laughed cruelly at her for a long time, even after she gave up trying to wriggle loose.  
"Not thy baby elleth. Not any more. She is mine now! Ask her if thou likest…"

_Please, please talk to me again._

She had tried over and over, begging even, reaching out to her babe with every fibre of her being, but there was no answer. She knew her daughter was alive and safe still. Slumbering inside her, content and resting. **He** had done something. She did not know how, or why, but he had done something to her baby. His creatures had killed Giliathmen. He wanted to kill her too but he would not. Not yet. Because he wanted her child. Well he would not have her. Either of them.

She looked around the strange empty stone room they had put her in. It was hewn out of the bedrock and was completely bare. There was only one door. It was made of metal. Iron. And she shrank from the smell of rust and decay. There was only one way to escape now, but she could not take that road without her child. Faenelloth sank onto the cold hard floor and tried to stay calm. One last time she had to try.

_Please baby. It is mother. You have to come with me now. We have to leave before it is too late. Please, please listen to me baby… I do not know what was done to you but you have to believe me. We are both in such danger and I cannot leave you child so we have to go together. Please, please believe me. l love you so much and you are all I have now. I am all you have too… I am mother. Remember me? Mother? I love you. Please listen to me. Please._

Her increasingly frantic thoughts broke off abruptly as she felt a deeper movement within and the babe felt it too. At last the thoughts came out sharp and clear. Finally an answer! She groaned in despair. Too late. It was too late.

_HURTS! __**SCARED!**_

_Yes my love. It is our time, but it will soon be over. Soon be over and we can leave and be together for always. We can live in the Light._

_No! Want mother!_

Faenelloth was crying in frustration as her body prepared to deliver the child she and Giliathmen had created so lovingly and longed for so much. And now there was nothing. Nothing. He was dead and she would be soon as well. They would not take their child even so. They would not.

**_I_**_ am mother baby. Please please come to me and there will an end to the hurt and we will be together always._

_No! Not mother! Sauron is mother! WANT SAURON!_

What had he done to her? Why was this happening? Nightmare. Nightmare. Nightmare.

With a great effort of will she forced a calmness of sorts upon herself and concentrated on birthing the child. That at least was still in her control. Then they could leave. They would leave together. It was the only way.

**_HURTS!_**

_I am sorry little one. It will stop I promise and then nothing will hurt you again – not ever._

_Frightened._

_Soon be over. I promise. Soon be over. Mother is waiting._

_Sauron?_

Mother. Your mother. The tears would not stop now.

One last push and her daughter was there. With her at last. She pulled the babe gently into her arms and she held her for the first and the last time. So perfect. So soft. She held the little arms that reached up for her and soothed them back then stroked across the downy silver hair. Like her own. Faenelloth smiled gently at her beautiful daughter as her hand moved down a little and gripped her tiny neck ever tighter. Tears streamed down her face as she held her fiercely in that last loving embrace, weeping at the necessity and cursing the ones who had brought her to this forever. When she was sure the child had gone to join her father, she was calm again. Now she could go too. She was more than ready.

He entered the cell and smiled at the two inert bodies, his eyes aflame with triumph. The child was perfect and still cradled in her mother's arms. This had turned out far better then he had dared to dream. She had to die anyway and for that to be done by her own 'bearer' was more than he could have asked for. The strong bond of infant and mother, sealing in the birthing, sullied forever. Now she was truly his and Lord Melkor's child. Pure and trustful. Their precious instrument to bend and shape as they wished. He stooped down and gently eased the tiny child out of her mother's pale, cold, stiff grasp. Two thralls chittered just beyond the door as he swept past, eager to show his lord this great prize.  
"Take the elleth down to the others and try not to damage her too much – I will see to her shortly. First I must take our little princess to make Lord Melkor's acquaintance. He is eager to meet her!"

Even as he walked away, he began the spells to bring her back, holding the baby's corpse as tenderly as Faenelloth had done as she waited to die, in a thrill of rare excitement. Soon the child would live again and then their greatest work could begin…


	4. Chapter 4

They were both weeping now. Aelial had no words for this. Aeglos' voice had been on the verge of hysteria as she told him of her horrific, inevitable and reasoned crime, but it was a far lesser one surely than that of this 'demon' if what she was telling him was the truth. She had broken down as she told of the taking of her child's life and then her own sad passing. He simply did not know what to think. At Cuiviénen nobody had ever died, but they had disappeared and never been heard of again. Even the ones whom they had known could not have been far from home. Yet somehow they had known of this concept of death. Had realised that something terrible was happening with those lost ones, who had been there one day and gone the next. Was this what had happened to them?

He thought back to that fierce debate amongst the Quendi long ago, when Giliathmen had been amongst the most outspoken of the Vanyar who were advocating that the Elves face the danger of these shadows that threatened them. To do something - to consider leaving the ever-lessening safety of the Lake - before it was 'too late'. This was before Ingwë and the others had been taken to Aman by Oromë and came back with the great news that the Valar were powerful friends, who would grant them lands where no shadows threatened and their lives could be lived in freedom and safety. And in the Light. They craved it, although they loved their starlit lands so dearly. And the Light of Aman had shone so clearly in the eyes of Ingwë, Finwë and Elwë on their return… Nearly all of them had willingly left their old home, hoping for a better life. Had they really known all along that there was such a thing as death? That this Rider, or Hunter, would bring such evil if he took them? As Aeglos had just told him?

It was the truth. It had to be. She could not make this up – they had no concept of what she spoke of, and so it must be true… And to be so changed as well. So wrong, and so damaged. The truth.

She was very quiet and he held her close to him now. He needed the comfort as much as she did.  
"Aeglos. I am sorry… so sorry… but you have to go on now. Tell me the rest of it."  
"You will hate me." Her voice was a horrified whisper as she repeated her earlier comment. She had always tried not to think of what she done. At first she had almost embraced the drugs and poisons they had fed her, for then she would not have to remember anything anymore.

"Oh my dear I do not hate you – truly I do not. I cannot think what I would have done in your place… in Faenelloth's place."  
"Yes. It was Faenelloth. She did it. She had to... Didn't she?"  
Poor, doomed wretch that she was. He nodded sadly. He could not speak for weeping for her.

"Stay, Sauron!"

The Vala's voice had lashed out like a whip and his will had frozen the Maia's impulsive steps instantly when he had tried to intervene in the birthing of the child down in the cells. They had been watching the elleth's pathetic attempts to win back the trust of her baby with glee, but Sauron had been dismayed when the Elf had begun to strangle her own child, as soon as she had been born.  
"Let her bearer do it. Then the bond is broken forever and she will truly be ours. Listen! Dost thou not hear her? Fighting the elleth, weak as she is for now! Already, even in dying she obeys thy will. Thou didst well to bring her to us – she is ours completely now!"

And Lord Melkor had been so right! He had brought the babe to his Lord and together they had completed the rites and brought the pale hues of undeath back to the tiny infant.  
"She looks almost as she did newly born, my Lord!"  
"She did not live outside of the womb for long did she? Hardly a few breaths taken. Hence the decay is neglible. And look at her fëa! Yes! You have done well, my best of servants! Very well indeed!"

"Shalt we carry on with the breeding programme now my Lord?"  
It was a reasonable enough question and so he was irritated when the Vala began to laugh in scorn at him.  
"Of course we must! Our little brood queen here will not be ready to birth our new soldier race for some time, but we now have another opportunity to improve on our males, thanks to thy foresight in preserving the elleth's mate as much as thou couldst."

At last Melkor's vicious mirth had faded enough to discuss the matter rationally. Still smarting from the slight, Sauron waited for his Lord to explain himself further.  
"None of the elleths we have taken thus far had been mated – is that not so?"  
"My lord knows it is so."  
"Well then?!" Impatiently he waited for his lieutenant to comprehend his meaning, but it appeared Sauron's genius had been exhausted for the time. Melkor sighed and continued with as much tolerance as he possessed. This was something he did not want mishandled. "They are both ready to be revived are they not? Do this in the usual way and for once, we will have a mated pair and a female that will not reject our male thrall's 'advances'. Doth thou need any more instruction?"

The fallen Maia had nodded sullenly. He understood well enough. All along they had been foiled in their attempts to breed viable offspring from the corrupted Elves. In the beginning, until they had been able to attune the doses of poisons and drugs they fed to their captives, they had succeeded in subduing the wretched fëar, but the thralls were virtual imbeciles, though as vicious and aggressive as they had envisioned. But as time went on they had realised that as breeding stock, their creatures were worse than useless. They would mate if drugged enough – if not the females fought to the death which was merely tiresome of course, as they could always be brought back – but even if they were placid enough to submit, they simply did not conceive at all. And the more often either gender had to be revived, the stupider they became, as their fëar degraded with each revival.

At last Melkor and he had devised a different set of poisons for the females. It only wrought minimal changes in their bodies, so that they still retained most of the features of the Quendi. Then, with less damaging levels of will-sapping drugs, most of them would submit to mating and some would even become pregnant, at which stage they would cut down on the levels of drugs. Again, failure. If they received too little of the poisons, then they became too self-aware and either curtailed their own pregnancy or took their own lives and at such an early stage that the fœtuses would always die. If they increased the doses so they remained pliable, then they simply aborted naturally at a later stage and still with no survivors. It seemed that they had an insoluble problem and that their only option was to keep on raising their dead thralls, although they could not do so indefinitely, once the degradation of the once elven bodies had gone beyond a certain point. And so they had kept on taking fresh supplies of Quendi from the Lake.

There had always been a shortage of females too. At present they only had three and this new one. They had at first hoped that they might take a younger female, but the Quendi were still a young race and not many children had yet been born to them. Certainly none had been taken as yet. But they carried on in the hope that if they did take a less mature female, they might have a better chance to subduing her enough to use as viable mating stock. But now, for the first time ever, they had taken a mated pair of Quendi and, as he had told the elleth as soon as he set eyes on her, she was indeed very special, though he had failed to recognise her potential as temporary breeding stock, whilst they prepared her daughter for her destiny.

Still smarting from his master's taunting, Sauron was nevertheless filled with malicious excitement as he went to see to the raising of their latest acquisitions. It was too delicious really. The touching reunion of the dead spouses. A very few days would see if their hopes were justified.

There had been a bright light and she had drifted in it for a while. No awareness at all. No memories. And then there came a pull, dragging her back to somewhere she had forgotten. Then there was a surging warmth as sluggish blood began to move around her body once more, and the light faded to the dull, wavering, yellow-orange of torch flames. Other senses began to return as her vision gradually came back into focus. There was a foul taste in her mouth, and a terrible rank smell of corruption and decay. And sound… Screaming… A voice... Her voice...

**"NOOOOOOOO!"**

Sobbing without tears. Over and over. She would never stop. And then she heard the other voice. That voice. Sneering at her.

"Ah – there thou art. I trust thou art not feeling too many ill effects?"

**"Get away from me!"** She was screaming as she leapt off the rock slab she was laid upon, trying to hit out at him, her fingers curled like claws. He caught her easily about both wrists and laughed at her as his will bore down on hers, crushing her body back down onto the cold stone.

"Thou wilt learn soon enough that it is futile to try and oppose me elleth."

She closed her eyes in desperation. His fiery gaze hurt them and his mind pressed on hers, telling her she was less than nothing and that she had no choice, no way out. Finally she went limp, no longer able to fight the compulsion he was placing on her. Calmly his physical grip on her evaporated and he gave another low gravelly laugh.

_Sit up now._

It was his mind speaking to her still. His mouth did not move. He held out a rough wooden vessel to her.

_Drink it._

Numbly she saw her hand take it from him and bring it to her lips. She took a mouthful of the contents and gagged at the foul taste, but she kept swallowing as though he had put his hand on hers to keep pouring the disgusting liquid down her open gullet.  
_It will aid thee in the end. Henceforth thou shalt always do my bidding. However much thou might wish it otherwise, no matter how much thou tryest to resist my will, or seek to escape my notice, thou art my thrall and thou shalt obey me in all things. __**Say it!**_

"I will obey you."

Her head was swimming and she peered at him as though he were swathed in a fog.

_Good. Now follow me. I have something to show thee, for I am well pleased with thee._

She did as she was bid. Not even thinking about it and followed him out of the stone room with the slab into a dimly corridor, then through an iron door and into another stone room. This one had a kind of bench in it. Quite wide and long. There was someone sat there. A male. She looked at him blankly but after a few moments she began to feel a creeping recognition that she knew him from somewhere. From some other time. She blinked a few times and tried to remember. He had a name but what was it? What was her name come to that?

Again he laughed cruelly and she turned to him, wondering what he meant by it.

_Well thou shalt thank me soon enough I daresay. I will leave thee both to get reacquainted – thou wilt have plenty of time to get to know each others little ways again._

He left them, the door wheezing closed behind him and the screeching sound of the bolts shooting home. The male stood up and she walked over to him slowly, puzzling over why they had been left together. He was several inches taller than her. He had pale lustreless skin and some over the side of his neck and collarbone was missing, and the edges curled inwards unpleasantly. She looked down at herself and gasped when she saw hers was much the same, though unbroken. Her hair too… bone white. That was wrong… like the skin… She looked up at him and his hair was like hers now, but it had not always been that way…

"Your hair…? It was golden… like the elanor…"

"Yours was silver like the stars…"

She gasped at his voice. She knew it, but that too had changed. As though all joy had left him. He looked down at her and his eyes glinted dull red in the dim light. They had been a light blue-silver! Before… When before? She tried to think though her head ached so much. A memory floated before her and she caught at it desperately.  
"Gil?"  
"I know you as well. You are my mate."

She could not move or speak for a long time, but at last three words whispered their way in horror past her lips.  
"We are dead!"  
"Yes."


	5. Chapter 5

"How could they do that? If you were dead how could they give you life again?"  
Aelial was confused and was still trying to grasp how an Elf could die at all.  
"They are the Dark God and his Demon Lord. They have great power…" She thought hard and then she remembered how Nurbor and Aelial had spoken of the Valar and this being who lead them west.  
"… maybe they are like this… Or-om-ë?"  
"No! He would not do **anything** like **that**!" Aelial's voice was outraged. "Ingwë would **never** give his allegiance to a being who could be so cruel. There are other Valar too and they are all great and good. Ingwë and the others saw this for themselves!"

His voice had softened a little as Aeglos began to tremble with fear again. But no. The beings she was talking about had done such terrible things and not just to Aeglos and her mate it seemed. The Valar could not possibly be like her 'Dark God' surely? He stroked her arm gently, trying to reassure her that he was not angry with her.

At last she spoke again.  
"I do not know your Valar. Only the Dark God and his demon. None of us knew how we were brought back from death… but… they made us drink things, poisoned our food. Maybe that was part of it? Towards the end – when we began to realise what was being done to us – Gil and I – we stopped eating and gradually we were able to think again… only… I had to think the most because he had been changed so much… had become… slow of thought. I think they gave the males different poisons because… once… I met an old female who was like them. Like the males. She had been there a long time and could no longer talk. I think she was from before the time when they knew they could not change females so much… when they could not breed their thralls at all?"

He shook his head. This was unbelievable, but again she was there and proof that something very wrong had been done. Something evil.  
"I am trying to understand, but it is hard Aeglos. Go on with your telling and maybe things will become clearer… tell me why the females were treated differently to the males."

**"Fool!"**

Sauron had barely taken a dozen paces into the audience chamber when Melkor's furiously malicious thought slammed into him like a falling mountain, knocking him to the ground, grinding him into the cold stone as though he were an insect.

**"What hath thou wrought?! **I **explicitly** told thee to dose them both as usual!" His will tore into his chief servant, pulling him from the floor as he strode over, needing to strike him physically.

**"No my Lord! Please! List… arggghhh!"  
**Sauron's breath was crushed from him as his angry lord's hand closed over his throat, lifting him bodily upwards as his terrible eyes bored into him. Desperately his mind shrieked out the reason for his seeming disobedience.

She _**knew**__ he was dead my lord! The thralls…! Please stop! My Lord! I can explain! The… the thralls… they were on them before I could stop them! The male defended her and so they fought hard! He fell before I could reach them! Before I even knew we had a female! PLEASE LISTEN! LORD MELKOR! __**She-knew-he-was-dead! She-knew-he-was-dead! She-knew-he-was-dead! NOOOOOO!**_

Melkor's grip tightened as his fury coiled and he threw the Maia onto floor with all the considerable force at his command. Dust roiled in the air as the stone cracked and exploded at the impact as Sauron's inviolate body was blasted several feet into the ground.

The still angry Vala finally reined back his ire and fixed Sauron with an icy stare.  
_Explain then._

Painfully the demon pulled himself together in every conceivable way, but only partially managing to conceal his outrage and resentment. The Vala was impervious to his servant's insolence and his humiliation poured balm on his own rage.

_She knew he was dead._

_That I had gathered._

_I gave them both the soporifics, but I did not administer the first draughts to the male, because I reasoned that she would reject him out of hand if he was too altered._

_And this helps them breed how? See! They are passive and just stare at each other and do nothing! They were mates! Why are they indifferent to each other?_

_It is not that simple my Lord. If I had given him the first draught then she may have taken fright and refused to accept him again – this way she is prepared after a short period of adjustment…_

_'Adjustment'? He is her mate is he not?  
_The Vala's voice was heavy with indifferent sarcasm.

_They are not like us my Lord. Death is a shock for them and I… anticipated… that the female would need time to… get used to their new… condition. If I had changed the male too much then there was a strong risk she would refuse him and go the way of all the other females when they eventually mated. This way they both have time to… bond again… as far as they are now capable of doing…_

_Weakness! Pathetic worms!_

_Yes of course - but this way we have a better chance of success. Please my Lord. Trust me in this – as least for a little while. I am __**certain**__ they will mate without aggression – or not too much - if we allow a short time for acceptance of their new condition. Look – now they are sitting together and talking!_

_Maybe… but we cannot wait too long… his fëa is very strong!_

_I promise you I will administer the first draught, just as soon as they have bonded to each other again and have joined acceptably. Then I will dose him as usual._

_What if she conceives straight away?_

_Would that be so disastrous? We might have another completely amoral sibling for our dearest princess – maybe even a male… They __**are**__ still Elves for now after all.  
_He looked coldly at his master as he finally saw the advantages of his own foresight and careful analysis of this novel situation. One day Melkor would regret his sneering and contempt...

In silence they sat on the bench together. She was staring at her hands as though she did not recognise them. Her head felt strange. Thick and sleepy.

"Can you remember what happened?"  
The voice of the dead Elf who had been her mate sounded flat and wrong. It had been different she was sure of it.

"No. Except… I had to die. Like you."

But then her own voice sounded strange too. Slower perhaps? When she had woken up she had been angry. She had been screaming. That much she remembered. The lord had given her a drink and then she was not angry any more. But she still hated the lord, even though she obeyed him. There was a reason for that as well but she could not remember what it was.

"Did they give you something to drink as well?" Her voice was soft and uncertain.  
"Drink? Yes. Before I was brought here."  
"It tasted horrible"  
"Yes. I spat it out at him. But then I had to drink more."  
"He makes you do things you do not want to do"  
"Yes."

The Elf who had been Gil turned at looked at her closely, as though he was having difficulty seeing her.  
"I am sorry. I tried to protect you… but I failed you both."

She was looking into his eyes and she knew, though his voice was dulled, he felt more than he could show. She felt as though she could not breathe enough and her words felt like they were choking her as she spoke them.  
"Gil. They killed you. There were too… many… It is so hard. I cannot remember. I am sorry too."

She was silent for a moment and then realised what he had said.  
"Both?"  
He nodded slowly and opened his mouth to speak, but could not. He tried again, several times before he finally managed to utter a single word.  
"Baby."

In her turn she could not speak, but she began to shudder in horror as she looked down on her now empty belly. She felt him move closer to her, then put his arm around her quivering shoulders. It was warm.

"You are still my mate."  
"Yes Gil." She laid her head on his shoulder as he took her hand in his. "We are dead, but you are still my mate."

"You see my Lord!"  
Sauron succeeded in keeping his triumph at a seemingly respectful level.

"So it would seem. Let us hope their memories do not sharpen any more however – they may not be so tender in recalling thy role in their demise if they remember too much."  
"I will see to it that the soporifics are topped off at the required intervals. For now it is enough they comfort each other. The rest will follow from that."  
"See that it does so. We have waited too long for this opportunity."  
"I am as eager as thyself to see this pairing restored my Lord. I will let nothing go wrong, I assure thee."  
"Then see to it that they mate and as soon as possible. And I want the ellon in transition once they do bond satisfactorily…"

He tailed off as another thought occurred. One that was almost elegant in its cruelty. He began to laugh but stopped after a few moments. This was important and he did not want his chief servant in any doubt as to what he required.  
"If it worries thee that the elleth will reject the advances of her mate in his early stages of thraldom, then let her observe thee as thou administer the draught unto him."  
"My Lord? Dost thou think that wise?"  
"If she hath seen the transition with her own eyes, then she will have no doubts as to thy powers, or that the ellon who was her mate has been changed and revived by thy offices. In that she must be clear, Sauron – that her mate's existence and her own art dependant upon thy 'beneficence'… and upon thy will. Use that to bend them both to our purpose."

"My Lord is wise. It shall be done as thou wish."  
"Just see to it. I will brook no more delays to my design and desire for dominance of these Quendi, and all other creatures that live on this world. I have waited too long already. This time I will accept no more failure… in any of my servants."

They sat there for a long time, not talking at all. Giliathmen held her still after she had calmed and she made no move away from him. His presence comforted her, although she still felt strange. She knew her memory had been afflicted in some way, but she was hesitant to try to think too hard about it. Her instinct told her that to do so would be too painful. Finally he made the choice for her.

"Our child… is dead too?"  
His voice sounded a little more animated and he shifted his position to face her more, so his arm moved to her waist and his hand left hers and went to rest lightly on her now empty belly. She did not move or resist his touch, but began to shiver again and her voice shook a little as she tried to reply.  
"Yes… No… I do not know. I am sorry."  
"She has gone. He took her… I am sure."  
"Maybe… I cannot remember."

And she did not. Truly she did not. But she knew for sure she did not want to remember what had happened.

Time passed and they were still sat together, holding hands now, without any need or desire to talk. The door to the cell was opened and a thrall appeared bearing two beakers of some dusty yellow liquid. The twisted grey-skinned creature cackled hoarsely as he set the beakers on the floor in front of them but said nothing as he left as abruptly as he had arrived. As one they both reached out and raised a beaker to their mouths. She drank down the yellow brew quickly, though spluttering a little at the taste. Giliathmen took a few mouthfuls, but then brought his other hand up and with an effort pulled the beaker away from his lips, spilling most of what was left onto his thighs and then cast the vessel onto the stone floor, as her beaker fell from her suddenly numb hand as he called out to her...

"Do not drink it!"

The ellon's voice rang out in the chamber, but he was too late for she had already finished the foul drink.

"Hmm? Tastes nasty… had to…"  
She sighed softly and wobbled slightly so he turned towards her to steady her, holding onto both her shoulders. She felt too warm and her head flopped forward, then over to rest against his cheek. He had to hold her tight as she sagged into his arms.  
"Are you tired? Fae?"  
He breathed in sharply, shaking his head as he felt his own thoughts clouding once more, but there was something else too. A feeling that drew him to her, made him want to hold her closer yet. She sighed again, her breath cool on his cheek though her forehead was blazing hot. He took another deep breath and she stirred, her hand coming up and brushing against his shoulder. He moved his own hand and caught and held her fingers against his chest as it began to slip down. Something was wrong, but he felt so confused. It was the drink he was sure of it - and she had drunk all of hers…

"You should not… have drunk… Fae?"  
Before he could finish, she moved her head slightly and her lips brushed his face, trailing a beguiling well-remembered heat. Her hand moved back up and curled itself around his neck and then it was as though all conscious thought slid away from him as the memories cascaded back into his mind. Of nights under the brilliant stars and the loving warmth of mutual desire. Slowly he turned his face towards hers and looked into her eyes which glowed like red-hot coals for him now. She whispered soft to him now, her voice still fuzzy with the fiery poison they had both been fed.  
"Want you… Gil…"

He was awash with longing for her now, as his own heat was fanned by the smaller amount of the drug he had also taken, bombarding him with bewildering, alluring visions of how it had been for them when they still lived. Slowly his lips moved against hers as he pushed her back onto the bench, the glittering fire in his own red eyes blazing into hers now.  
"You are still my mate!"

His own voice was rough with fever as the depraved poison swept them both away.

He had felt a moment's panic when the male had not taken all of the potion, but as the Vala had said, this one's fëa was strong and it was evidently enough as the female succumbed more readily to the poison. He turned to the four old thralls. They were all ancient and practically useless as his will pulled them upright and gave them their orders.


	6. Chapter 6

They both awoke abruptly as the Demon called them back into consciousness. The thralls had brought them to another room, very different from the places they had been in since they had been brought to the fortress. There was a strange and foul smell pervading the space and it seemed as though they were deep under the earth, which was in fact the case. It was well-lit however, with many torches and there was a bench and also a table, big enough for Giliathmen to lie out on. It was still built of stone with the iron door, but here almost all the walls had shelved recesses and held many bottle and vessels containing strange liquids and powders, some of which were causing the vile stench. Faenelloth was still feeling sluggish from the drug, but she recognised their tall, thin, black-robed captor and instinctively moved closer to Giliathmen. Having taken less of the poison, he was recovering more quickly and was looking around the strange place, but he put a protective arm around his mate, trying to re-assure her.

"I trust thou hast enjoyed getting re-acquainted?"  
Sauron's voice was silky soft as his eyes glided possessively over the two Elves. It was a pity that the ellon had been so damaged. They really made a handsome pair, even though they had lost the lustre of the Quendi through their undeath. Not that was of any consequence in the slightest of course – all that mattered was that they were strong in body and mind and this pair seemed to be proving to be fine specimens. He had certainly been right in letting them re-establish the pair bond – they would produce fine progeny, he was sure of that, just as soon as the male began the transition…

"What do you want with us? Where is our child?"  
The sooner the better. The Demon's eyes narrowed, finely calculating this ellon's burgeoning return to full consciousness. So strong and vital. It was almost a pity to consign him to permanent thraldom, but there was no alternative for males. His response was cold and contemptuous as he exerted his will against both of them, forcing them to sit upright and apart.

_Thou hast no child. And all we require of thee is thy obedience. Thy absolute obedience._

He spoke directly into their minds no longer bothering to hide his power. Prodding the female into alertness, he laid the compulsion on her with practised ease.

_Come here female._

She stood immediately and walked over to him without resistance. He smiled at the irony of having her assist him in the first of the procedures that would change her mate forever. He turned his back on her and the male and began to measure out the components of the draught, but turned almost with a start as the male spoke again, his voice strained against the compulsion that still held him on the bench.

"We have a child. What have you done with her?"

_She is no longer thy concern. __**Now be silent!**_

Fiery, flame-yellow eyes bored into Giliathmen and the ellon reeled back against the wall, hitting his head as another voice, softer and plaintive spoke out.

"Where is she? My baby?"

_**SILENCE!**_

He turned back and carried on with his measuring, this time keeping a tighter hold on both minds. The male in particular was too alert, but that would shortly be remedied as this potion was also a strong sedative.

_Give this to him._

He held out the glazed vessel to Faenelloth to take to her mate. She took it from him but did not move.

"I **said** take it to him!"

His voice lashed out at her this time, his irritation evident.

"My baby!"

Extraordinary. Despite his growing rage, part of him was fascinated with the elleth's persistence and he examined her thoughts more closely. She was terrified. She remembered her child, but not what had happened. Not even the birth, except… she knew something had been done, and that was what was frightening her. She did not want to remember! Again he smiled, this time in triumph.

"Do as thou art told and then perhaps thou shalt see the child."  
"Please?" She was actually crying! How very interesting…

_First give thy mate this drink._

His thought was icy and emotionless, completely concealing his mounting excitement at the potential of this breeding pair.

Faenelloth finally took the vessel to Giliathmen. Again Sauron had to exert more compulsion than he would normally have expected and again to make the ellon drink the beaker to its dregs – there must be no chances taken now, no spilling. He watched the male drain the vessel and then made him hand it back to the elleth. He took it back from her and then had her sit beside her mate again. She was still crying and the male, though starting to feel the effects of the drink, again put his arm around her.

_Good. Wait here and remain seated. I shall return soon._

_ Absolutely not! I forbid it._

_But my Lord! Didst thou see the resistance and how strong the bond?! It is incredible! We could have our dream within our grasp at last! With this pair we could have breeding stock that produces a strain of thralls that will have a modicum of intelligence!_

_Nevertheless. I will not have the infant endangered in any way._

_I promise she will not be harmed at all. __**She**__ is our victory and will ensure that this elleth will remain cowed and bent to our purpose forever!_

Lord Melkor's mind seized his servant's, who willingly gave up his scheme in all it's malicious splendour. The Vala released him abruptly and paused for a few moments before starting to laugh softly.

_Very well. There is an elegance to thy plan that is pleasing to us. So long as the child is safe – thou shalt pay dearly if she is not Sauron._

_I will take every care with her, my Lord._

_Awake_, _little one. I have some people for thee to meet._

_Sleepy. Do not want to, mother…_

Sauron laughed softly and picked the baby elleth up gently.

_This will not take long I promise my dearest._

As he walked back to the Chamber of Transformation his mind reached out to their breeding pair. Both were still relatively tranquil under his compulsion, but the male was beginning to sweat and tremble slightly as the potion began its work. The female had relapsed into virtual catatonia and was still and silent, seemingly unaware of her mate's plight. Her will was nearly broken and after this he doubted they would have any trouble from her in the future, bond or no. The door opened before them and he entered giving the infant a little mental prod so she was fully aware. That much he needed to ensure a suitable reaction. After that she could return to her slumbers, no worse for the trauma her brief presence would cause...

_Come then. I have brought the child._

Sauron compelled both Elves to stand, adding some additional support to the male who was beginning to succumb to the poison quickly now. He wanted them both aware of what was happening to the full. He smiled viciously at the elleth and adjusted his hold on the infant so she faced her natural parents. Almost with glee, he prepared to project the baby's mind-speech to both Elves, for the female would no longer be able to hear her, their fragile birthing bond having shattered forever. The male of course had never shared in their communion, but the Demon had decided that there were benefits to his being fully party to what was about to happen.

_Come female. Thou wished to see the child thou birthed. This is she._

Faenelloth was frozen with shock, looking at the baby anxiously and making no effort to move. Sauron compelled her forward anyway and she walked like an automaton until she was only a pace away from the terrible lord and the pale, silver-skinned, silver haired elfling.

_What is this? Nothing to say to her? Well, maybe she has something to say to thee? My dearest child – thou recall thy bearer surely?_

The baby looked at the elleth and said nothing, her eyes black as midnight, remote and uncaring. Faenelloth however was staring at her daughter in dismay.

_"What have you done to my baby?" _Her breath was a choking whisper and Giliathmen, though beginning to wobble, even with the Demon's aid, touched her arm gently. But she could not take her eyes of the little elleth. Sauron's mind was laughing softly, scorn etched onto his thoughts.

_What have __**I**__ done? Why, nothing at all… save to restore the life thou took from her in thy arrogance. Wouldst thou wish her to thank thee for that? For killing her in almost the same instant that she was born? Let us see shall we?_

"No!" Faenelloth's whisper was barely audible for she was ensnared in horror and the babe's dark accusing stare. Giliathmen staggered slightly at Sauron's words, and croaked out a warning to his mate.

"Do not listen to him! He lies!"

The Demon Lord's malicious mirth echoed in the Elves heads. The baby turned and smiled sweetly at him. Sauron returned her gaze adoringly as she asked him a question and made sure those who had conceived her heard every calm disinterested thought.

_Why art thou laughing mother?_

_Because my dearest one this is the one who bore thee. Shall we remind her of what she did? Or perhaps we should let her embrace thee and say how sorry she is for strangling thee?_

_No! I do not like her!_

"Lies! He is tricking us. Do not listen!" Giliathmen spat the words out like bile as his spouse shook her head in disbelief and still Sauron's amusement was not abated.

_They do not believe us, my lovely child. Or perhaps it is just me they will not heed. Maybe thine own voice will convince them?_

Without warning he held the baby out as though to hand her over to Faenelloth. The movement surprised both Faenelloth and her baby and their reactions were strong. The child gave a huge echoing shriek and burst into outraged and angry tears as her true mother shrank back, speechless, then collapsing to the floor as Sauron's will released her and her baby's mind-cries damned her forever.

**_Noooo! I hate her! I hate her! She HURT me and I hate her!_**

Sauron's laughter rang in their ears as well their heads as he turned and calmly took the still howling child back to her cradle, slamming the door of the Chamber behind him. As he released his hold on Giliathmen as well, he left a lingering taunt.

_Thou art all dead, yet all live again by my will. Ask thy mate who killed the babe, if thou still cannot accept the truth. All I did was give the child back the life that was taken from her. And now she is mine and my Lord's. Thou and thy mate are as nothing to her. Ask thy mate – she remembers now… _

"Fae? Please tell me he is lying."  
His words were tortuously panted out as, slowly and painfully, he joined her on the floor and tried to hold her, but she would not let him. His head was reeling and sweat poured off him as he was assailed by uncontrollable trembling and spasms deep within him, as bones and organs began to change and realign. In agony now, he fell onto her and then slid down her unresisting body onto the floor groaning endlessly. As he finally began to drift into blessed unconsciousness he felt her hold him at last, pulling him into her arms as she held him on her lap, tears splashing onto his broiling skin. He heard her words soft, full of sorrow and eternal pain in his ears.

"I thought you were dead. They were going to take her and kill me as well. We had to follow you Gil… we had to…"

Somehow he found the strength to reply before he fell into darkness again.

"You… are still…my… mate."

She held him for a long time, thinking he was dying again, though he was still breathing.

The door to the Chamber opened again and Sauron returned with his four aged thralls.  
"He will not die – this time. He is merely changing."  
"Why are you doing this to us?"  
She had stopped crying and her voice was dull with exhaustion and grief.  
"Thou art mine to do with as I will and as my Lord wills." He laughed briefly as he caught the thought in her mind. "It is of no matter to me or my Lord whether thou choose to die again or not. We will simply restore thy life once more. **Every** time thou dieth. Thou wilt obey us in all things. Thou cannot resist our design, so do not attempt to thwart us. Co-operate and thou wilt feel and remember nothing except that which is required of thee."  
"What do you want from us."  
"Nothing too hard. We want thy offspring, elleth. Thine and thy mate's."  
"You have her. What more can you take from us?"  
"Thou shalt have more offspring. Many others. Once thy mate has undergone a few… changes."

His mind compelled her to move away from the now writhing ellon and motioned for the thralls to lay him on the long table. He looked coolly at Faenelloth and spoke softly to her, his voice sibilant with exultation.  
"Sit and watch now elleth. Learn to obey and thou and thy mate shall be treated well. Resist and thy life here will be a hell thou could not imagine in life or in death – there is no escape for thee now. And no respite.

They had been returned to the cell they had occupied before. Giliathmen was alive but very still and silent, apart from breathing steadily and deeply, lying on the wide bench where the thralls had set him down. The Demon had escorted them back, keeping Faenelloth under his will the whole time, laughing scornfully at her struggles to escape his terrible pronouncements on what was happening to her spouse and what would happen to her. By the time they had arrived at the cell and he had released her, she had fallen to the floor in a sobbing heap and had stayed like that for a long time after he and the loathsome thralls had left them.

She had finally gone into a dreamless sleep, stopping every memory that floated before her mind for it was either too beautiful and happy for her to bear, or because it was too terrible to recall, because it was all to do with what had happened to them over the last few days. Since they had left the lake in fact. And so she slept and warded all dreams away from her tortured, exhausted mind.

"Fae? Are you there?" He jumped at the sound of his voice, rasping and hoarse, but he could not move. She was here, he could sense her, but she was very quiet. Again he tried and failed to move any part of his body.  
**"Fae!" **He panicked and shouted her name.  
"Gil?"

Her voice was sleepy and he remembered some more of what had happened in that other place.  
"Oh Gil… how do you feel?" _  
_She pulled herself off the floor and knelt beside the bench, looking cautiously at his face, trying not to recoil as she had done back in the Chamber of Transformation when the Demon had made her look at what he had done to her mate.  
"I cannot move. What happened?" There was something wrong. She was looking at him strangely.  
"He said you would not be able to move much at first – but that you will recover fully."  
"He? The Demon?" What was the matter with his voice? It was cracked and horrible.

Faenelloth nodded miserably. Slowly she put a pallid hand on his forehead, stroking the rough greyish skin, wanting to weep at what had been done to her once handsome mate, but she had no more tears left in her. She looked sadly into his dulled red eyes and they at least were still his in shape and expression, if not in colour.  
"They did something to you Gil. Can you see me?"  
"Yes… I think I can move my fingers now Fae? My right hand…"  
She turned to look and sure enough saw his fingers moving slightly. She reached out and held his hand in hers, gently avoiding the claws that now grew in place of his nails.

"Then the Demon did not lie." She paused a moment, then got up and sat down beside him on the edge of the bench, still holding his hand. It felt hot still, but was much cooler than it had been earlier. She had thought he would burn her he was so hot. "Gil… you will be able to move soon I think. Would you like me to tell you what happened now?"  
He blinked and tried to nod but could not, so instead squeezed her hand. She flinched a little. "I am sorry – did I hurt you?"  
She smiled at him and shook her head, not wanting to worry him too soon. He had only scratched her a little and the bleeding would soon stop.  
"I can smell blood… What happened Fae – tell me?"  
His eyes were pleading and she could not deny him. "Do you remember the Demon made me give you a drink?"  
"Yes and he made me drink it all... and then… he went? He brought our daughter to us too! She still lives Fae! Fae?"

She shook her head slowly. He remembered some of it obviously. Maybe he would remember all of it in time. So she would tell him all of it now she decided. Before they were drugged again and forgot it all. The Demon had meant to be cruel in what he told her of the 'life' that would be hers now and she had no illusions that she would do everything he told her. She would have no choice but to do so. But she would never do it willingly. Never. Even if she died, except that did not matter in the slightest of course. They would not let her stay dead for long. So she kept holding her mate's hand and spoke gently to him.  
"She does not live Gil. She is like us. She is dead. The Demon… he is powerful. He can make the dead live again. Our daughter was dead Gil… Can you remember what he said in that place… What she did when he held her out to me?"  
"I… am not sure Fae. My mind was in a fog. He told lies about you – that I do know."  
"No he did not my love." Her voice was very quiet now but she held his gaze_. _"He spoke the truth. Our daughter screamed at me, remember? Said she hated me?"  
"That was him! Hurting her! I wanted to kill him!" His eyes blazed bright red at her and he drew fresh blood from her hand. This time she did not flinch. Instead she shook her head again and carried on, her voice still quiet and steady, though her eyes also began to flicker with hatred.  
"Yes! Kill him... but he is too strong for us Gil. And he was telling the truth. Do you remember? What I said afterwards… after he took her away?"  
"No… Yes - a little. But I thought I was dreaming? You said you had to… follow me?"  
She nodded and smiled grimly. "Follow you into death, yes. They killed you. He was going to take her Gil – take her away from me. Do terrible things. So we had to follow you… both of us. But he had already taken her away from me… even before she was born. She refused the bond… would not talk to me… would not come with me. So I had to kill her myself…"

His grip was getting tighter and he was drawing more and more blood now, but still she would not take her hand away from him. He was still her mate and he had to know what had been done to her. Done to all three of them.  
"I could not follow you until she had been born… to make sure she would come with me. And so I birthed her… and then I strangled her. And then I followed her and you too… but you were not there. Because he had made you live again. And he did the same with me. And he must have done the same with our baby, Gil."

He felt he did not want to draw another breath, but he kept on breathing. Her words sliced through him a hundred times and he felt his strength returning with an uncontrollable rage. This was confusing for he was angry with Faenelloth, but that was as nothing to the fury he felt for the Demon…

**"STOP! No more!" **

His roar echoed around the little room and she tried to get away from him now, but he held her too fast and now his arm could move as well. He pulled her back to him and in doing so brought his hand into his line of vision. Again he cried out, this time in shock and let her go so suddenly that she stumbled to the floor.

He brought his… hand…? closer to his face. _This_ - was his hand? The skin was no longer the pallid colour it had been after his life was taken. Now it was a light grey colour. It seemed bigger… more muscular… He was turning it from side to side, looking at it in horror. As though it did not belong to him. There were claws that had been his nails at the end of the fingers. And blood. Fae's blood. He had smelt it.

"No!" Still his voice crackled, coarse and horrible. He could feel his blood pounding in his veins and the feeling returning to his other arm, his legs, his neck… And still the rage was pulsing in his head and gave another roaring cry of pain and anger, hauling himself into a sitting position and swinging his legs over so his feet touched the stony floor.

Faenelloth has been watching him with a mixture of terror and triumph. His poor ruined face still held some of his characteristics in repose at any rate. He was still her mate and always would be, but he was also a fiercesome, hideous creature now. His rage was in a way magnificent and fit his new obscenely warped body. His back was slightly bowed, the arms now heavily muscled and longer somehow, more powerful. His thighs were like young tree-trunks, but the knees turned outwards more, his calves bulging to match those of his thighs. His feet, like his hands seemed larger and bore sharp claws. When he roared out his rage she gasped as she saw his teeth… sharper… the canines now more like the fangs of some predator. And then he was standing and coming for her. She was frozen and he scooped her up easily, placing her on her feet and holding her tightly by her upper arms, his claws again drawing more blood as they dug into her.

He gazed furiously into her face, breathing hard, yet holding back his full wrath, knowing she was not responsible for these… awful… terrible changes wrought upon him. But she had killed their child. Admitted it openly. If he could only think clearly, but it was so hard.

"Gil!" Her voice was tiny and she could barely speak for fear. "You can kill me if you want. I deserve it - I know. But… they would have killed her anyway. He told me they would have… but they let me do it instead – because… **ahhh**!"  
He slammed her onto the stone bench and she hit her head hard against the wall, losing consciousness for a few moments. Giliathmen was beyond reason and screamed at her, even though she could not hear him.

**"SHUT UP! I do not want to hear you! I cannot think!"**

She moaned as she came to and tried to sit up, but slipped farther onto the bench, shaking with the shock. He was trying hard to control the urge to batter her further. There was something important. A reason why he should not kill her. She had slumped forward slightly and he saw more blood seeping through her white hair. The blood was wrong. Nearly black. That was not right. He looked down at his hands again. Her blood on them was wrong too. Fighting for control now he made himself breathe deeply.

"They want us to make more babies for them Gil." She had to tell him now. Make him see. So she gasped the words quickly, willing him to let her speak. "They have taken our daughter away from us – made her hate us – hate me. But they still want our other babies as well. I do not know why. But they will not let us be dead. Not you. Not me… so kill me if you want. They will not care. They will just make me live again… over and over…"

She stopped at last, breathless and still shocked at his violent reaction for they had never before shown any anger physically to each other. But she had killed her own daughter in a travesty of love, trying to protect her… _This is your punishment for that_… she told herself silently, _Gil will make you pay for what you did…_ Fearfully she looked up at the furious creature who had been her spouse.

He had listened to her in silence, but the effort it cost him was evident as the veins throbbed in his temples and his hands balled into fists, his claws now drawing dark blood from his own flesh. Her words made little sense to him, but he could see she was telling him the truth.  
It was the Demon behind it all. He told himself that over and over. He knew he and Fae were both dead, yet lived again for some strange diabolical reason. She tried to sit up again but her arms were shaking. He reached out and helped her upright, his hands leaving bloody marks on her dirty torn tunic.

"I am sorry Gil… I thought you were dead and I did not know what else to do… He did something to her… when he first took us…"  
Her voice was weak and shaky and this also made him rant and scream, but not at her. Mostly he was angry with himself now. "Do not talk anymore Fae. I must think, but it is so hard."

He sighed and sat down beside her, leaning his head back against the wall. She was leaning forward, her head in her hands. He looked over at her and saw the blood on the back of her head again. There was a lot. Too much... His bestial new hands reached and gently started to move her hair aside. The back of her tunic was soaked with dark blood and he felt a lump in his throat, as he began to look for the actual wound. She groaned and brought her own hand up to feel how much damage there was.

"The blood is starting to dry now." He spoke softly as she turned to face him, her face even paler and so sad. "I should not have thrown you down so hard. Forgive me?"  
She nodded slightly and reached out for his hand again. He saw claw marks, his marks on her skin and brought his other hand over to gently cover hers.  
"What have they done to me Fae? I do not want to be like this."  
"I know. I know Gil. I do not want to live like this either. A living death."

_This is quite interesting Sauron. Their pair bond seems to be supporting them both to a surprising degree - and the male is a superb specimen as thou hath said. But I want them mating again as soon as may be. Thou hast one day to discover how much to dose them – sedatives or stimulants as required - and then I wilt see to them myself._

_My Lord? I thought thou wished to spend as much time as thou couldst with our little Queen. I can see to her parents myself._

_Thou hast more pressing duties. I wish for thee to travel into the east again. The band of Quendi thou found this pair with had many females didst thou not report?_

_Indeed my Lord… but surely with these two…?_

_Do not question me Sauron! We still need females and maybe there were more mated pairs besides these two… Go and find out, and if there are… then bring them back here as well. We must seize every opportunity we can now to breed mates fit for our little Queen… her lesser siblings will need mates of their own too in time…_

_My Lord Melkor is always wise. I will make my preparations swiftly._


	7. Chapter 7

It was hard to explain to someone who had not been there. Giliathmen and she had barely known what was happening at first and the longer they were there the harder it got to keep track of the truth of their captivity. As the terrible changes wrought on him grew more serious as time went on, they had realised that even their food was tainted with poisons to keep them docile whenever they were forced back into the breeding program. The males, especially later on when there were enough damned children to carry on with the procreation of Melkor's foul soldier race, were later kept in a drugged state of constantly manipulated belligerence which eventually robbed them of any free will and dulled their intelligence. Again she tried to describe what had been done to her mate.

"At first the changes were mostly to do with how he was made. The Demon made her watch it – Gil's first changing. She did not want to Aelial, but he made her stay and watch the whole time. She could not look away, had to see Gil in such agony as he was twisted, his spine bent and his legs bowed…"  
Aeglos felt her breath constricting and stopped a moment, looking at the ground. Aelial, who had let her go at some stage whilst she was recounting how Giliathmen had been changed into some kind of beast, put a hand to her shoulder in silent support and she went on, her voice quiet now, avoiding his sad gaze.  
"His poor skin blotching and… and turning to a smoky grey colour. He… the Demon… made her hold his head still. Put wood in Gil's mouth to stop him biting himself too much as his teeth… lengthened and sharpened. He was so hot to the touch! His skin almost burnt her fingers… And all the time the Demon was telling her what was happening to Gil. What the draught had started inside of him and how he and the Dark God could reach inside of him and shape his ruin – unmake him and then put him back together as something else. Something awful. What would happen to her and to him if they did not obey the Dark God's wishes..."

She was more controlled now. Matter of fact, almost as though this had happened to someone else. But then it had of course. She had not been Faenelloth since her escape it seemed. Aelial had watched her face carefully as her voice grew steadier, yet duller, as she went on, which seemed to be in complete contrast to what she was trying to describe, because that was increasingly horrific, so much so he wanted to tell her to stop. So he did the next best thing and asked a question.

"These changes… they were just made to Gil's appearance then?"  
"No…" She shuddered and was silent for a time. "At first yes… although he was raw and angry at what had happened to him… and to… Faenelloth. She had been hurt quite badly when he threw her against the wall and so they held each other for a long time. But they were given food and water that warped their desire and dulled their willpower and… even though they tried to resist, they were made to mate for many days. And after a while they could not even resist any more… they just did as they were bidden until she fell pregnant… Then he was taken away. So he could do no harm to her."  
"But why would he have tried to hurt her? They were still mates – although I suppose he had attacked her that first time…?"

Aelial was troubled at the very thought of an ellon laying violent hands on his spouse or indeed any other elf. He could conceive of no circumstances that he would so do with Sûlranna, but then… he had been none too gentle with Aeglos these last few hours. He was beginning to understand a little now how she must have been so changed by the terrible ordeals she had endured. And still part of him was repulsed just by her appearance. As much as he pitied her he was finding it hard to feel any kinship for her as her tale unfolded.  
She nodded glumly at his comments but she knew the answer. The Demon and his Lord could not risk either of them being able to resist the sedatives, or somehow evade the control their own minds exerted over the mates. Together they were still strong and once she was carrying an infant they could not risk her and Gil devising some way of destroying the child, for they were both determined now that they would not co-operate in the evil schemes if they could find a way…

_This is intolerable Sauron! They must be separated immediately._

_But my Lord… the pair bond!?_

_What of it! It has served its purpose for the moment at least. With him there to steel her resolve she will break free of thy control or even mine if we are distracted elsewhere and then what dost thou think will happen!  
_His mind stared coldly at his servant who was working elsewhere in Utumno.  
_There must be no risk to the infant until it is viable and so she must be prevented from provoking her own death or killing herself until the last weeks. Or at all._

_I suppose so… but then we may have to start all over again with re-establishing the bonding once she is ready to be mated again._

_Now she is pregnant he serves no useful purpose – put him with the other males and continue with the transition process. The remnants of his will must be crushed as thou destroyed hers. The next time we put him with her I want him conditioned to our bidding as are the rest of the males. Thou knowest that the sedatives cannot be used indefinitely, especially on the female, so we need him fully tractable and not resisting the conditioning every step of the way as he has been. As they both have._

Sauron nodded in defeat. He knew his Lord was right. Also they had three other pairs now to see to, though regrettably none of the elleths had been pregnant or had children. He or the thralls had killed them as they were taken and they had been careful to reanimate them all in their respective pairs and followed the same procedure as they had done with these original spouses. Because there was no child it had been easier in a way, though harder in others. With their little mother, the guilt and trauma she had suffered over her mate's brutal killing and her own murderous birthing and death had made her so easy to manipulate, but her mate had been surprisingly resistant to the drugs and spells they had spun. And the encounter with their child had only seemed to galvanise his stubborn defiance and his constant refusal to take the prepared draughts, unless heavily compelled by his own or Lord Melkor's will. This had incited the female to emulate him to some extent, though she was still terrified at what else might be done to them if they did not co-operate. So it was high time they were separated…

The thrall had been sent in with their water and they both knew it had the sedative in it. They had to drink but they had started to throw half away most days and this was no exception. Giliathmen looked at his mate, his eyes avoiding hers as they mostly did now. He could hardly bear to see his face reflected in her wide sad eyes. They had both been changed and for the worse, and so their happiness was forever marred. The love they shared had also changed, but it was stronger than ever now, even though Fae was still stricken with grief and remorse. There was nothing soft about their bond now. It was adamant, hard and enduring, pared down to one all encompassing hatred for those who had destroyed their lives. All he could feel was a hot rage for the wickedness done to Fae, to his daughter and to himself as well. Whenever he had enough command of himself, the roiling fury fuelled his resolve until his ravenous burning need for revenge was white-hot. Somehow there would be a reckoning and he would see them brought down, both of them, the Demon and the vile God who had been taunting them whenever their first tormentor was not about.

He no longer blamed Fae as he had in his confusion and shock when he had first revived and she had told him of what she had done to their child. Even though she could not forgive herself, he was now convinced that her actions had been absolutely right. He knew full well she had had no way of knowing what kind of foul hands they had fallen into. They had also been under no illusions about why they had been left together and though they had no way of ultimately refusing the compulsions to mate, they both resisted as long as they could. But now they had been left alone for longer than usual, though it was hard to tell the passing of time with any accuracy in this accursed place where the only light came from smoky stinking pitch-dipped torches. And now they were beginning to guess the reason. He so wanted to smile at her, give her courage and hope, but that was why he could not look into her eyes anymore. His jaws could only snarl at her and make her cry for what was lost forever now. Instead he looked down at her still lovely mouth as he brought his forehead down to hers until they touched. Then he could look into her eyes in safety.

"What shall we do beloved?" He was getting used to the deep rasp of his voice now and could speak quietly enough when he was calm like this with her. She needed his tenderness so much and he was so ashamed that he could not give that to her anymore, except with a huge effort to keep his temper under control. Every little thing seemed to ignite his anger and he could see how much she tried not to show her anxiety at his crude intimidating behaviour. He held her shoulders, gently pulling her close to him, his body trying to make amends for his last outburst.  
"There is nothing we can do Gil. He said there was no escape. No respite."  
He closed his eyes, trying to keep a hold of himself and she sighed softly. His cheek slid against hers and he kissed her carefully, gently, on the tip of her ear. "There is a child. I am sure of it now. And that is what they want of us." Her voice was on the edge of tears again, so he held her closer, one of his hands caressing her back, trying to give as much comfort as he could.  
"And what are we supposed to do? Let them have it…? The poor… misbegotten creature."  
"What else can we do Gil?"

Neither of them knew the answer and so they sat down on the bench that served as their bed and drank a little water. She had not known for sure that they had conceived and had been praying that it was no longer possible as they had both been dead and Gil in particular so changed. But it had come to pass and once again the cruelty of the Demon's merciless truths mocked her. A thought surfaced and she examined it with mounting fear, taking another cupful of the water.  
"Not too much Fae, my love."  
He put his hand on hers as she raised the cup to her lips. She turned her face away from him and her other hand came up and pushed his away gently. She took a few more gulps and shuffled around to face him, keeping her eyes on his shoulder, knowing he could not look at her sometimes.  
"There is a way Gil – only it will not prevent them trying again and I have a feeling that doing this will make things even worse for us."  
He put his arm around her waist and pulled her closer so her head rested on his shoulder and he rested his head on hers. "I cannot see how things could be worse Fae. Tell me."

As she explained, her voice got sleepier and he knew that their water contained more sedative than usual. He let her finish the cup she had taken, glad she had drunk more water than he, for what she was proposing was drastic and he had no wish to harm her unduly again. But it was the only way left to them to oppose their captors and save this new child. When she had finished he nodded slowly, took the cup from her hand and laid her gently down on the bench. He lay down alongside her and looped one arm under her head and around her shoulders, embracing her lovingly so she was snuggled into his neck, her breathing calm and deep now. He thought sadly back to when they had been safe at Cuiviénen, how many times they had lain together thus, when things were simple and they were so happy.

"I will hold you until you go to sleep then beloved. We will both be punished - I have no doubt of it, but we will be together again in time. They need us still."

**Wretches!**

Sauron had felled the male with a thought, crushing his heart and lungs. Squeezing his organs so hard, dark blood had erupted from all the orifices in his head and spattered onto the elleth. The Demon now held the female in his arms gently, though he felt like strangling her himself. Again they had defied him! Both of them! If it had not been for their little queen who had taken to spying on her parents, he would have been too late. As it was he had barely been in time to save the female and had had to strike out at the male even before he had reached the cell.  
**"Take him to the Chamber of Transformation out of my sight!"**

He screamed so furiously at the four thralls they cowered back and he had to prevent them from fleeing out of the door. The female stirred in his arms as well and another, crueller thought lured him from further violence. Of speech at least.  
"Stay! Leave us now a moment. Wait outside for I shall want ye again soon. Close the door."

He turned his attention back to the female his mind soothing her semi-crushed throat and encouraging her back into consciousness. Whilst she commanded herself he tamed his own anger. There was much advantage to this situation although he almost shuddered to think what his Lord would have done had the male succeeded in killing his mate and, more importantly, the tiny babe that had just begun to live inside her. The mates would both pay dearly for this. There would be no more hesitation or carefulness again. Not next time, for there would of course be a next time for these two. And she would pay for her seditious ideas forever. Over and over.

"Ugh… Gil…?"

_No, female. Just me and thyself a moment - then thou shalt see thy mate again. I will insist upon that._

He did not trust himself to speak physically even now, so great was his rage, so his thought thundered inside her skull as he stood, sweeping her up with him then holding her up in front of him making her look into his blazing face, fiery eyes boring into hers. His next thought was calmer and deadly cold.

_Thou hast done nothing but harm to thyself and to thy mate. Thou livest and wilt continue to do so until the child thou carry is ready to be born. Alone._

"Oh… no…"

She would have fainted but he would not allow it. Roughly he set her down, preventing her from crumpling to the ground and checked her womb carefully. There was no sign of impending abortion now and he would have smiled in relief, but for his rage. He spun her about and put his hand on the crook of her neck and forced her to look on her spouse, dead on the floor, his face in a rictus of agony, covered in black sticky blood. This time when Sauron spoke his voice was frigid and hard.

"THIS is thine own doing female. I know why thou and thy mate took this path make no mistake on that."  
"Oh, Gil!"

He smiled savagely at last and let her go. She sank to her knees and clasped her mate to her bosom, sobbing hoarsely and rocking him hopelessly back and forth.  
"Say thy farewells swiftly. I must tend to him soon and it will be long 'ere he is with thee again. This will **not** happen again female – understand?"  
She nodded, not looking at him, holding the dead one tight as though she could squeeze life back into him.  
"I am sorry! So sorry… my love…"

He cared not whether she spoke to him or to her mate. She would not do this again and neither would the male. He stalked out of the cell and dispatched the thralls back into it, his mind pushing the female away from her dead spouse. She howled in despair as they took him away, her misery echoing all around her.

He followed them away from the cell, leaving her with another callous thought as she threw herself onto the floor, tearing her hair and weeping incoherently.

_Drink thy water and forget for a time. That is all the relief thou wilt be granted now – forgetfulness if thou carry this new child to term. Do this and thou shalt see thy mate again in time. But until thy babe is delivered unto my hands thou wilt remain in this place; and alone; and without favour. And think thyself fortunate that no more punishment will be meted out upon thee. Do __**not **__pit thy will against mine own or my Lord's __**ever**__ again, or we shall have to see if we can find better ways to discipline thee and thy mate._

Aelial could no longer hold back and he wept with her now, holding her very close as her pain became unbearable, for she could barely speak of what had happened to them. Both Giliathmen and Faenelloth had done terrible, unforgivable things and yet… And yet… The inevitability and consequences of what had been done to them, what they had had to endure, had a logic and rightness to them that he was beginning to at least understand and perhaps would even condone soon enough. And this poor creature he still felt no real kinship for - he now held to him as gently as he would hold his wife, his children.

He had dearly loved Giliathmen, the closest of his brothers, though latterly they had spent far less time together once Aelial had met and mated Sûlranna. Their fraternal bond was still strong indeed and precious to him, lamenting in their separation until this very day. As Aeglos gradually told of the obscene changes wrought on Giliathmen, he had not wanted to believe her and had drawn back from her. But as she had told of how she had been there when this vile Demon Lord had unmade his brother and turned him into some crude beast who lashed out in his madness and rage even at one he had sworn to love forever, he was filled with doubt and sorrow. And yet… she too had done an unspeakable thing to their child. The whole business was warped into unimaginable wickedness, but here was Faenelloth, or rather Aeglos, so strange and so pitiable in her terrible ruin and remorse that he had forced from her, by demanding she tell her history. Finally he found he could no longer reject her. She had literally crumbled in front him, speaking in broken, keening tones of how she and Giliathmen had faced their plight and could only chose death for themselves, and for the doomed child they had been coerced and manipulated into conceiving.

"Your words wound me so much Aeglos and yet I know the truth in them. Accept them. I accept you as well."  
Their shared grief had quietened now. She was still weeping softly and he would not let her go, needed to hold her and at last affirm his support and empathy, for that was all he could give her now.  
"You were Giliathmen's mate and I honour you for that without any hesitation now. You are still my kin, however much you have been changed by what was done to you, and to my poor brother."

He knew she could not answer now, but she clung to him and he kissed the top of her head which brought more tears, but he knew why, for he had seen Giliathmen do the same the few times he had seen him with Faenelloth. Aelial spoke again in the same quiet, calm, sad voice, almost fearing to ask more of her, but needing to know the end of his brother's story and knowing that she too needed to tell of it. At least this once.  
"You have told enough of what befell you both in that awful place, but can you bear to tell me of what happened later on? How you got away? And what happened to Gil?

She said nothing for a long while and he would not press her. Knowing now how much it hurt her to have to remember, why she had been so wild and frightened even to do something as simple as sharing a family meal…

That had been the end of their defiance for a very long time, but not of their hatred. As she lay in their cell, knowing utter defeat and despair, all that kept Faenelloth from ending this travesty of a second life once more was the thought of what would be done to Giliathmen as well as herself if she died now, taking this unwelcome, unloved scrap of life with her.

Lying there abandoned on the cold floor, she wept until she was dizzy with exhaustion and dehydration, then, remembering the Demon's parting words she scrabbled her way to the bucket of tainted water in a panic and drank until she lost consciousness. That was when her true madness began as she spent long months alone in a darkness of the mind and soul, if not in fact. She saw nobody except the thrall who came to her with her food and water and he never spoke or even looked at her. Even the drugs in her drinking water ceased to be a blessing as her pregnancy progressed and they deemed that there was risk to the unwanted life she carried inside her body without affection or care. Most days she lay in her own filth in misery, not even granted oblivion as she felt the creature within her growing strong, mocking her own and Giliathmen's will. She thought about her mate constantly, but not as he had been before their capture for that was too painful. She wondered how badly he had been damaged and whether his undoubted raising back to life had caused him more hurt. Most of all she worried that he would forget her and how it had been, what had happened to them. She dreaded their promised reconciliation as much as she desired it.

Her time came at last and she took some comfort as she delivered her infant chimera, this time in the presence of the Demon, that soon she would be reunited with Giliathmen. The Demon of course took much delight in torturing her further as he took the furiously squealing baby up in triumph, narrowly avoiding having his finger bitten.

"Thou hast done well elleth. This little imp is most promising and he shall soon be joined by others. He may even serve his sister if he does well. She is looking forward to having some playmates."  
He looked at the undead Elf maliciously, his fiery eyes glittering. She was completely cowed despite only being under the lightest of control of his own mind and had been taking no soporific drugs whatsoever for some months now. Yet still she hated him thoroughly. Sauron's smile was sly as his mind slipped into the infant's and he rejoiced in the mish-mash of fear and anger he found there. That would change soon enough he thought as he ruthlessly compelled the little _orch_ into unconsciousness for a while. The conditioning would begin soon enough.

"A pity thou cannot watch over her progress, but she will not suffer thy presence near her. She likes thy mate well enough however, so I will leave him to tell thee of what she is doing."  
He laughed and decided to tell her a little more of her mate's recent history.  
"He will be back with thee in a little while, but not just yet. When last he died – a week ago, he was quite badly injured and we would not like thee to be taxed with nursing him at present as thou art also in need of rest and recuperation. After all… we need both of thee in good health before thou canst breed for us again. Speaking of which…"

He took a frothing beaker from one of the thralls and handed it to her.  
"Thou must drink this – thou hast lost a lot of blood in this birthing." He smiled as she drank the blood warm, foul-tasting brew without a word or hesitation.  
"I congratulate both of thee on the spirit and strength of thy youngest child. This bodes well for the other little soldiers thou shalt bear for us in the future. Thy mate will join thee in a few days time, have no fear. Until then we will restore the potions that soothe and take away thy memories. Consider this as a… restoration of thy 'privileges' on completion of this task. But remember what will happen if thou attempteth to thwart our plans again. That will not be tolerated."

She had no real knowledge of how long it was before Giliathmen rejoined her for she had sunk herself in blessed forgetfulness, hardly pausing to take food before greedily drinking herself into unconsciousness once more. He was simply there when she woke and he knew her too. She fell sobbing into his arms and they simply held each other for a long time before they could talk with any sense.

"You remember everything?" She could hardly believe he was essentially unchanged in his ways, but there were new scars all over his body and when they finally loosed their embrace enough she saw his body was more stooped, though he was as strong and well-muscled as before.  
"Everything yes. Including not to drink too much of their devil water. But I have learned the futility of defying them as well."

He sighed and looked deep into her eyes, wondering how much she had suffered whilst they were separated. She was very dirty, but then so was he. That did not matter so much as the dull look in her eyes which he knew was due to the soporifics. He did not blame her for taking them. He had done so himself at first each time they had revived him. But he had been shocked at how thin she was and the frightened look she had, even with him once she had finally woken from the too deep sleep.

"The Demon… He said you had seen our daughter Gil…?"  
He nodded slowly. "She is… growing fast."

It was all he could think of to say to her. She was looking at him with a terrible hunger in her eyes and he hardly knew what to say for whatever he did would most likely devastate her.  
"What is she like? Does she still hate me? Or remember me?" His heart nearly broke for his mate as her voice was tiny and so afraid.  
"She is beautiful Fae – like you…" He paused, postponing the moment he had been rehearsing in his head since they had raised him again several days ago. But she had to know and then she could relinquish all hope for their lost child forever.

"They have poisoned her mind, Fae. She remembers you well enough. She even wishes to see you again one day… so she can have her revenge on you."

Faenelloth could hardly breathe as Giliathmen held her close and told her over and over how sorry he was.  
"Revenge? Then she does hate me still." Her voice shook but she was too shocked to cry yet.  
"She feels nothing for you now. Or for me. She only loves the Demon and the Great One."  
"But he said that she liked you? Who is the Great One?"  
"Worse than the Demon – he fears him I think. But our daughter has no fear of either of them and they both dote on her. Give her almost anything she wishes for. So they gave me to her – to play with. And yes – she does like me. In a way…"

Slowly he began to explain his mate exactly what 'playing' with their daughter entailed.

**"No! No! NOOOOOO! Give him back to me!"  
**"Baugbereth – my little love! Calm yourself please!"

Sauron was at a loss as to what to do now. She was impossible at present and he was beginning to regret giving in to her 'request' for her bearer's mate to come and 'play' with her. This was the third time she had damaged him and this time was worst of all, as the thrall had died of smoke inhalation before he had been able to extinguish the flames. Thankfully – and he used the word more in trepidation than accuracy in her case these days – the burns on his thighs had not been too bad, for tissue regeneration was extremely difficult once the draughts had been administered… If he had not come as soon as he had, then they may have had to discard the thrall altogether, had his capacity to breed been impaired. Even Melkor had agreed that their magnificent child have gone too far and that this particular thrall must be kept away from her in future.

He felt her trying to assail his mind, to crush and grind his will to hers and he felt a surge of pride mixed with revulsion at how far she had come. Only a little over a year old and she had already begun to master the powers of the mind Melkor had bestowed upon her. He had had mixed feelings about that, after his lord had started to show an idle interest in his child's progress, and this had formed part of his own reluctance to leave Utumno when he had been ordered back on the hunt for more mated pairs of Quendi for their breeding programme. By the time he returned the deed had been done and his little queen no longer needed him to magnify and translate her thoughts and worse, had gained a measure of his own and Lord Melkor's ability to manipulate and compel obedience in lesser minds.

If it had been any of the other thralls that she wished to 'play' with it would not have mattered so much, but as soon as she had asked for 'Giliathmen' – she had even known his true name after her spying on her true parents – Sauron had feared the worst and now it had happened. He had been in time to save the former ellon from the flames, but by the time he had got him away from the child, Melkor had heard the commotion and so great was his anger Sauron had actually had to beg for Baugbereth's life and had nearly failed in that. Having averted that at least, Melkor had still taken the child and had nearly ripped her tiny mind apart, literally putting the fear of their god into her because of her malicious little game. And he could do nothing, had had to watch from afar as his lord terrorised their precious little queen into abject submission.

Except he had not. Baugbereth was terrified of Melkor now, but she also hated him and what was more she knew that he did too. He had hidden this even from himself, afraid that his Lord would see and destroy him. And anyway that was futile for he knew he could keep nothing from Melkor who actually revelled in the ambivalence and so his hatred went hand in hand with a profane love that Melkor had twisted and warped until Sauron was helpless in his loyalty. But not Baugbereth. His prize. The only child of his heart and, he was just beginning to realise, his one selfless love. And now he had had to tell her she could not have her plaything back ever. He tried to explain it to her and had thought he had succeeded but today she had wanted 'her' Giliathmen and now she was throwing a tantrum that threatened to bring Melkor's wrath down on them yet again…

"Want him back NOW mother!"  
Her lovely little face frowned prettily at Sauron as she slyly slipped into his thoughts and nestled there appealingly, barely able to rein back her fury and irritation. Oh what a child they had created! She truly was the epitome of the name she had chosen for herself – a queen so cruel one had to love her for her audacity, even as she mocked you and attempted to crush any opposition to her will. A few more years and she would be a match for Melkor yet he thought. His mind sighed but his face remained unmoved. This time he would not give in to her. Some things she had to learn and they were not strong enough to cross Melkor. Well she was not, and he had not the will. He would not risk her for such a trifle as this. She could have other toys.

"Thou cannot have him back ever my dear. I explained it to thee, remember? And please my love, try not to scream or else Lord Melkor will be angry with us again."  
"But **why** not Sauron? Giliathmen makes me laugh!"  
She pouted and summoned tears to her eyes, knowing he hated it when she cried and would do anything to appease her. Nearly always. She was watching him carefully and realised she would not win this time. But then she saw something else in his mind and she let a little crystal tear fall then smiled sadly at the Demon she called mother.

"Want someone else to play with then! Need somebody to make me laugh because **thou** dost not and Lord Melkor is too horrible to me."  
"All the thralls are too scared to play with thee now – who else is there my treasure?"  
"The thralls are **stupid!** And boring! What about the little orchling thou wert talking to Lord Melkor about? If he is my brother then he **has** to play with me does he not?" Her jet dark eyes bored into the Demon's, though her voice was sweet as honey.  
"In time Baugbereth my dear. All in good time." He smiled at her as he gently picked her up and set her on his knee. "He is too small and must grow a little before he is strong enough for thee to play with properly. I have a better idea for thee, as thou seemeth to like playing with flames so much lately. Hast thou seen my friends the Balrogs…?"  
"Ooooo! Will they make me laugh?"  
"I think they may my pet. But I think I must come with thee at first and we had best play outside perhaps. It would not do to set our home on fire now would it?"  
"I suppose…"

He smiled at her and tried not to see the thought shining in her mind that she thought she had hidden from him.

One day I shall set Lord Melkor on fire!

"She made you set fire to yourself? I do not believe it – she is too little… how could she do that?"  
Faenelloth could not believe her ears. But then she looked at Gil's thighs and saw the marks left by the burns and she knew he was truthful. Yet still she shook her head.

"You said yourself the Demon did something to her before she was born. Now she can talk properly, but she still talks with her mind as well – like the Demon and the Great One. The Dark God. And like them she made me do things I did not wish to. She laughed as I was burning and said I was funny when I screamed with the pain."  
"They are making her do it then. She could not hurt you so – surely not? Not purposefully…? Gil?"  
He looked at her sadly and took her hand in his, stroking it gently, keeping his claws well away from her skin. "Neither of them were present. When they heard me yelling the Demon came, but I do not remember what happened after that. The smoke. I think he must have put the flames out. I woke in the Chamber of Transformation so I suppose I must have died again."

Again she held her breath, then expelled it in a rush. "He said you had died – when the orch was born…"  
"Orch?"  
"What he called that one I bore… His truths are always so painful. Maybe you are right – they have made her cruel… like they are… Oh Gil – this is all my fault…"  
"No – not yours Fae. Never yours. Do not think that! This is **his** doing and the Dark God's. They have made her this way. She is cruel. That is her name – Baugbereth. The cruel queen. She told me she chose the name herself. She told me to give you a message as well."

He had thought he would not tell her this, but she needed to know because one day she might need the strength and he might not be around to help her. Yet still he hesitated.  
"What message?"  
"She said one day she would have the power to kill you every day for eternity. I am sorry Fae. She is lost to us."

"They took everything from us Aelial. Stripped us of our lives and took all and any hope from us. All of us. It was not just Giliathmen and I. There were many of us. They even took our bodies and crushed our will. I know I do not look so very different now, but you know it all the same do you not? And for the ellons the changes were too great and they became 'Yrch'. Goblins. Daugs - soldiers of the Dark God and his Demon Lord. And I… and the other elleths who were taken – we were their mothers, their breeding stock for the first generation…"

She moved away from him slightly so she could look up at him. He could only meet her eyes for a few moments before he had to look away. She smiled sadly at him and leant her head into his neck again so he did not have to look at her.  
"It is alright Aelial. I know how different I am now. Nurbor meant to be kind, but there is no way for me to be with the Quendi anymore. They changed me too much – I cannot eat the same food as you any more. If I have a fëa still it must be corrupted beyond saving now I think. I have sinned so badly - killed… murdered my own child… and allowed… abom… abominations to be born of me…"

She was crying again and he could not stand any more for the moment so he spoke over her until she stopped.  
"Please! Aeglos… please stop. Hush my dear… my poor dear, be still I beg you."

Very deliberately he moved so he could look at her again, though he still held her close to him. This time he held her gaze and spoke gently, from the heart, his eyes never leaving those tortured red eyes.  
"Yes you have changed, and Gil was changed… But that was not your choice was it? None of it. Even the choices you made… even killing your poor little baby was something you were driven to because of those… evil beings…"

He was breathing hard, his voice becoming angry and he had to stop himself because he could see the fear in her eyes growing not diminishing and he could not heap more pain and humiliation on her now. He willed himself into calm.  
"I am sorry. But you are still Quendi - you are my dear. I hear it in your voice and see it in your tears and none of this is truly your fault. It was **never** of your choosing Fae… Aeglos. You are Aeglos now. Hold to that my dear. Faenelloth died in that place. Aeglos got away. She was brave and strong and she escaped – didn't she?"

She broke eye contact by bowing her head and evaded his hand beneath her chin as he tried to coax her back up.  
"I killed Giliathmen." She whispered it, staring at the ground again. "I killed my mate. He wanted me to… but I still did it. He needed to die where they could never bring him back again."

Again Aelial felt the urge to shake her but this time he pulled back into his arms, holding her gently, kissing the top of her head again and he spoke softly to her.  
"Tell me then. Just tell me. Then we will go to Ingwë and see how he judges it. I will never desert you now. Not now. None of this was your fault."


	8. Chapter 8

Years passed and gradually their plans had ripened as their first breeding generation of yrch were born and matured. Gradually they had added to their original four mated pairs of Elves and had enough families to mate without weakening further generations. All the infants were taken from their 'adjusted' Elven mothers at birth and the babies' conditioning began almost immediately with a combination of drugs and poisons developed from those that were fed to the male thralls, as well as more traditional 'nurturing' methods with the tiny orcs eventually brought up in large groups. Sauron, and later Baugbereth, played the most active part in this part of Melkor's grand scheme, though his genius was always the driving force and he still kept an active interest in designing the basic production methods of the new potions and of the manipulation of the physical structure of their new soldier race. But he had other concerns and so his chief servant and his own protégée Baugbereth took more and more command of their growing army as time went on.

Baugbereth herself, growing in power and glorying in its more forceful and domineering applications, was keen to undergo some changes herself, once Sauron had explained to her how her future would be crucial to the viability and greatness of the new race who would inherit and rule all of Middle Earth. Like her mother and the other undead elleths, Baugbereth was still in essence immortal, although her own form was manipulated, but much more gradually and thoughtfully and also because of the circumstances of her birth and immediate death, her fëa was not compromised, though wide open to corruption and easily turned to evil. In the adult Elves Sauron and Melkor's invasive necromancy was a travesty of what happened naturally, intervening in their proper cycle of re-incarnation that would occur in the usual course of events in Aman. There was undoubtedly serious impairment to the females' fëar, the more the evil Ainur had to raise them back from death, but their ability to regenerate was essentially unaffected, as their physical form was essentially unchanged and so they still did not age.

In male thralls this did not happen any more, because their bodies were too degraded by the changes and their basic structure eroded too much. Their immortality was limited to how many times Sauron or Melkor raised them back to life and so gradually the moronic original thralls, the progeny of male Elves and lesser female demons were no longer resuscitated when they were killed, or otherwise died from old age in rare cases, as their purpose was now redundant. They were merely experiments that had served their purpose in developing the various extracts and potions that the evil god and his chief and greatest demon had devised and now used to create and refine their longed for soldier race.

It was still slow work but they were beginning to find ways to accelerate the growth of the immature yrch and of Baugbereth too, in her case greatly so, as her intellect was far superior now and informed their experiments greatly. The twisted bond between the undead elleth and Sauron was very strong, and outwardly at least she was Melkor's loyal and devoted servant. This was partly genuine as Melkor's godly powers demanded absolute devotion which was impossible to deny in his presence, but when he was not she still fostered much hostility against the Vala still, which Sauron secretly approved of and encouraged.

It was during this time that Melkor began to raise a second fortress, Angband, far to the west of Utumno, intending it to stand against any wave of opposition from Aman and the other Ainur, having by now realised that Oromë and Yavanna were also abroad in Middle Earth. Also at this time Sauron proposed moving the 'new' breeding project to the second fortress where there was more space. He and Baugbereth now spent most of their time in Angband and Utumno was merely a holding centre where the 'lost' Quendi they still took periodically were kept and processed into acceptable breeding stock. It was Baugbereth who first suggested that unmated captives were kept alive at first and then kept in 'bonding' cells where they had some success in pushing some of the Elves into pair-bonding out of fear or sheer loneliness. The few naturally mated pairs they found from time to time, they continued to slay on the spot and these were the real prizes as breeding could take place much more speedily. But not speedily enough…

**_Sauron! Baugbereth_**_**– come to me!**_

Melkor's call was adamant and they had both responded swiftly. The Vala had been abroad again but had returned to Utumno rather sooner than normal. Baugbereth in particular was now finding Melkor's presence oppressive and his constant interference in the conditioning process of the young yrch irritating in the extreme. She still managed to control her abhorrence effectively in his presence and that was enough for the Dark God, for in some ways he was beginning to find her presence more acceptable and stimulating than Sauron's.

Baugbereth now bore few remaining physical characteristics of an elleth, though she was not wholly orc-like. Her eyes were still black as coals and not the dark blood-red of her full siblings or the other goblin children and her form less twisted and stooped. Sauron had lavished every care and ingenuity on her 'perfected' form and their bond had strengthened over the years as they had begun to work closely together on bringing up the first warped generation. There had been few repetitions of the torture she had meted out on her natural father, as her mind had matured even faster than her physical growth. Both Melkor and Sauron were well-pleased with their cruel queen and her unbounded potential.

_Ye must make preparations to leave Utumno completely very soon._

He appeared to be perfectly composed, but the Demon and the Queen knew him thoroughly and could sense his agitation. Normally this would displease him, but the urgency in him was paramount and so he shared his concern fully with them. He spoke directly into their minds, not even bothering to conceal his anger and fear.

_My brother the 'Huntsman' espied me near the lake of the Quendi and I cannot be certain but he may have followed me here. I cannot sense him anywhere in Endor at this time, or_ _Kementári and so we must assume the worst._

Sauron, having much more knowledge of the Ainur than his daughter-queen was instantly of a mind with his lord.  
_Of course my Lord – dost thou wisheth us to remove the thralls and captives to Angband also?_

_Do so, yes. We cannot risk the Ainur finding out about our children, especially the thralls if they should come in strength to this abode. Take all of them to Angband – we must contain the entire breeding population there._

She had heard the words of the two lords with growing alarm.  
_But we still need this place for the reception and bonding of new pairs – if we move them all to Angband we will be too far away from the Quendi to continue the captive conditioning and to take new ones – the distance is too great…_

_Hush, Baugbereth._

Sauron made haste to interrupt her, though he shared her dismay, as he could sense Melkor's ire rising.  
_The most important thing is to avoid detection before we are ready to unleash our soldiers upon the world. Maybe it is time to bring the next generation into the breeding? We have talked of this a little my Lord…_

Melkor looked at Baugbereth angrily, but Sauron's words held his attention and he answered his faithful servant.  
_Yes, this may be the time to accelerate our plans. The yrch are almost ready anyway and we have enough mature females at last even if they are still a little young…  
_His gaze had again passed back to Baugbereth, the eldest of their new generation and by far the most promising. The penetrating fiery eyes narrowed in malice as another interesting twist occurred to him.  
_Go and commence thy preparations to depart in all haste then Sauron. Baugbereth – stay with me a moment…_

Sauron was already moving off but stopped abruptly when Melkor bid her remain with him. He knew his lord well and he turned his head to him in trepidation as he caught a hint of what the Vala wished.  
_My Lord? I will need Baugbereth's aid…_

_**Did I invite thee to discuss this!**__ Do as I say – there is something Baugbereth and I need to do. She will be with thee soon enough._

_As my Lord wishes._

He left swiftly, but he knew what was going to happen now and he feared greatly for her. But he could not prevent it. Had known almost from the moment that he had held her in his arms as a newly dead babe what her destiny would be. She would truly be a Queen now, but he dreaded her reaction once Melkor had finished with her.

The Dark God smiled at her slickly and slowly began to assume a new corporeal form. The masculine equivalent of her own unique kind. More powerful in body as well as in mind of course and she looked on her consort with a mixture of fascination and fear. That was good. Very good.

"Come here Baugbereth. It is time for thee to learn obedience and then thou shalt truly rise to all the glory and position thou hast wished for. Only I can give this to thee".  
"My Lord."

Just two words, but enough for her to show that she would obey him in this without question. She proudly walked up to her destiny and her mate embodied in one form at last and shivered with a mixture of desire and terror as he grasped the brilliant silvery mane of hair at the back of her head in one powerful hand. With the other, sharp claws extended, he tore her raiment from her then clasped her to him, his claws drawing blood as he did so.

He revelled in her growing heat and his own as he bared his fangs.  
"Thou art mine in every sense, little Queen. Never, never forget that."

They were soaring high above Utumno when she screamed her triumph to the world, her mind amplifying it into a shout that would be heard by any Ainur within a thousand miles or more of the fortress.

_Melkor is Lord of creation!  
_Her voice rang with elation and vengeance for she knew that at least one Vala was abroad whilst their Lord had been teaching her some new skills. Whether he knew it or not…

**"BAUGBERETH!" **Sauron's voice unenhanced and shocked to the core called out as their winged mounts turned towards Angband and sped like arrows into the west. **"What art thou about?! Thou wilt betray our position!"**

**"What if I have!"** She yelled back completely unconcerned though without the amplification this time. **"There is nothing for them to find now! Nothing that need worry US anyway"**

**"Art thou MAD!? Melkor cannot move the rest of the spirits out of there so fast – what if they…."  
**He had reached out with his own awareness, barely less sensitive than Melkor's and he felt them – the others, far, far away, close to the Lake still, but also to the west as well. He _knew_ they would have heard her, could already feel their minds reaching out towards himself and Baugbereth – but most of all for Melkor. In desperation he hastily spun a spell of concealment about them and their winged mounts, thralls and all and could only hope he was in time, as his own mind echoed back on him within the inviolable cocoon he had erected about them. This time his thought lashed out in anger towards his still revelling daughter.

_What hast thou done child! They __**heard**__ thee!_

She said nothing, only laughed wildly with glee and he knew she had betrayed their Lord deliberately.

_Thou hast better pray that __**they**__ find him before he finds thee Baugbereth – he wilt destroy thee! And I shall be powerless to stop him!_

_**Nay, father!**__ I bear the future within me now and he will do NOTHING! He will need us more than ever! Again she laughed, replete in her victory. And if they do take him first – why then we are free of him - for once and for all!_

_We shall see. But my heart tells me that we shall regret this deed bitterly some day, Baugbereth.  
_He shut his mind to her, angry with her and with himself too, for not realising how deep her hatred went.

His mind was dark with despair now. Melkor had been taken for sure. There could be no doubt of that. Time after time Sauron's mind had reached out towards Utumno whenever he had dared make the attempt, and now it had become obvious that neither Melkor nor any of his servants were left alive there. There had been one last cataclysmic crashing, where he had had no need to use his mind powers to ascertain the cause for the percussion of the clash of bodies and wills of his Lord and of Tulkas had been felt here in Angband and the after-shocks of their fighting had gone on for days afterwards. But ever since then he had not been able to sense Melkor anywhere in Middle Earth, or indeed any other of the Ainur, save Oromë who had passed over Angband a few hours afterwards and circled all around there for several days whilst he, Baugbereth and their charges could only cower, keeping as quiet as they knew how, hidden in the depths of once proud fortress that the Valar had previously smashed their way through, looking for him and the other spirits they must have known had been allied to Melkor.

Baugbereth, Gothmog and the other Balrogs had looked on him in scorn as he demanded their obedience and finally brought his far superior will down on the fire-spirits, forcing them into silence and quiescence when the accursed spirits of Aman had come against Angband in force, determined to destroy all of Melkor's works in Endor. But they had seen his wisdom as the Valar and their Maiar, greater and lesser, had all but torn apart the upper stronghold and deemed that they had destroyed all of their dread master's works. Now finally they knew his way, steeped in stealth and cunning had saved them all and, for now at least, he had them where he needed them to be. In awe of his power and under his sway.

All except Baugbereth, though she accepted his leadership with what he hoped was admiration and gratitude. She had been incandescent in her triumph when they had arrived in Angband and Melkor had not followed them, already under siege and fighting for his existence. As soon as she had joined him in gathering the remnants of the thralls and captive Quendi to leave Utumno, he had known that she was too far gone in the need for vengeance on their lord this time. She had been covered in bites and rends, her eyes glittering like faceted jet, lit with lava, in malice and outrage at Melkor's merciless assault and mauling. Her mind however had been in darkness, though he was able to sense an odd trailing of excitement and jubilation during that dash to the relative safety of Angband. The reason for that he had already guessed, but he had still been stunned at the change in his darling foster child as her pregnancy became irrefutable. Something more than lust and subjugation had passed between her and Melkor after he had been ordered away, for she held herself now with supreme confidence and assurance in her burgeoning power and creative potency.

She had already been manipulating the gestation as they fled from Utumno he realised now, and so he was not surprised that she had agreed quite quickly to their lying hidden in the deepest vault of the western fortress, for her belly had already swollen and she was now only days away from giving birth. He had seen the brood she was carrying. Twenty orchling, ten male and ten female. She said their growth spurt would continue after birth as well and that her progeny would be mature enough to mate in only five or six years. The potential for the breeding programme was almost heady in its precipitous elegance and they had already started to plan her future matings with the unrelated males of their first generation. She assured him that they would also be able to manipulate the reproductive abilities of all the female yrch, including her full sisters, so that they also would be able to carry and deliver large broods in a similar time span, which she was already saying could be foreshortened even more if they had need to increase the pace of their breeding.

"We will have no need of our breeding thralls and their mates now, dear father."  
He had expected this too and so was ready for her in this latest sign of her arrogance and pride, just before she delivered her first children.  
"Maybe not, but they will still have their uses should we need to reintroduce a less diluted strain of Quendi attributes in our matured population. Do not forget that mental integrity is compromised in the male thralls and we have already seen that this may manifest as instability in our first generation in both genders. Not in thee of course for thou wert born with no such impairments – pure and intact, then refined and perfected my dear Baugbereth. I am hoping that these first yrchlings of thine own line will have no such defects, but it is always wise to have a failsafe in these progenerative matters. Who knows, we may yet find a way to mitigate this weakness of intellect caused by multiple raisings."

He had given her pause with this response and she reminded herself that she still had much to learn from her demon father who, unlike Melkor treated her as an equal and much appreciated helpmate. Even if he was not as powerful as their now vanquished and incarcerated former lord, Sauron was in some respects his superior, for his mind was more investigative and rational, less prone to hubris and impulse and far more patient and calculating. Traits she had observed benefited and learned from over the years.

"As always thy counsel is wise, but perhaps their usefulness in breeding should be left in abeyance until we see how this new generation fares? Maybe their role should become more… 'nurturing'?"  
He almost laughed at the transparency of her thoughts.  
"Ah my Baugbereth, how I wish I could believe that thy intentions were purely practical. However that doth not mean we should not do this, for the idea itself is meritorious. I think thine own parents services however had best be assigned away from thee? They hath always been superlative breeding stock after all – even thy siblings excel amongst the others, so it would be a great pity if we lost them entirely to the programme. Best not risk a repetition of thy blood father's accident."  
"Pah! As if I would do **that** again! I was still a babe then – I know better now. Thou needst have no fears, even about the safety of my bearer in my care now! I fully appreciate all that she did for me in the past, believe me father."  
He shook his head, smiling a little, seeing the glitter in her eyes and knew his instincts, as always, were correct.  
"I am glad to hear it Baugbereth, but nevertheless I think I shall not tempt fate – besides which I find the rapport I have with thy bearer in particular most satisfying and so I will not cede that to thee just yet I think."

Besides which the avenue their lord had finally taken with Baugbereth was perhaps worth experimenting further with, though maybe with a few alterations that might solve their intellectual impairment problem altogether…


	9. Chapter 9

"Fae? Please talk to me… What is the matter?"  
He had been in her cell for a long time now and she had barely spoken to him. All she wanted to do was drink the soporifics as soon as she began to wake and if he tried to withhold her water she just cried until he gave in, unable to bear seeing her so distressed. He could not understand how she could be so distraught until she had drunk herself back into unconsciousness again. He was appalled at how thin she was, but if she would not eat at all…

This time she could not escape him, for he had thrown all the water away the last time the thrall had brought some in. He could think more clearly at least and though he had a raging thirst, he had resolved to drink as little as possible this time. It was hard to keep track of time in here, but it had been so long since they had been together. This was the first time since they had been brought to this fortress and he knew she had been pregnant as usual so that explained a little but surely she could have had two birthings or more even since then. Sadly he brushed the dirty bone-pale hair away from her thin little face and smiled as well as he could at her as she opened her eyes and then held onto to her shoulder just firmly enough to prevent her turning to face the wall. He was sitting on the bench she had been sprawled on for most of the time he had been here.

"Fae. Please. There is no water so I cannot get you any. You have to talk to me my dear. What is wrong?"  
"No. Let me be. Let me die…"

Her voice was cracked and dry yet deathly quiet. He kept his grip on her, refusing to let her turn away. At least she was not crying, but then that was probably because she was so dehydrated… The thought gave him pause. He knew he was rarely this lucid and put the notion away for examination later on. For now she was his priority and he would make her see that he could not lose her. But she looked so frail and sad. He decided to wait a little. Give her a chance to shake the drug a little more. He would not let her go. His other hand came up to her face and he gently stroked her face with the back, making sure his claws could not hurt her.  
"Please, Gil. Let me be."

He shook his head and held her remorselessly as she tried to wriggle free of his grasp. She was too weak to struggle for long and so she gave up and lay back again defeated, unable even to cry any more.  
"Let me go please. I cannot stay. Not this time, Gil. Please."  
"Why, Fae? It has been so long since we were together and I have missed you so much Fae. What have I done? I do not understand…"  
He stopped when he saw the despairing expression on her face and if he could have still he would have cried himself. For long moments he paused, waiting for her to do something, say something, she just stared at him, as though she were in hell and he was something she had thought lost to her.  
"Ah Fae! I cannot bear to see you like this… what have I done? Have I hurt you somehow? Please tell me melleth and I will make amends however I can. Forgive me, please – I beg of you."

"You sound… different?" She was coming round and she needed to go back into the dark senseless silence so much, but he was looking at her with such love and pain… was so concerned… Behaving so considerately. Had they not told him what had happened? She had said they would, but if they had, then surely Gil would not be this gentle with her? He should be raging at her. At her betrayal.  
"So do you now. Are you feeling more awake my dear?"  
She nodded slowly at him and again he smiled kindly at her in his own way. He could not know then. Was this yet another of their tricks?  
"I have not been drinking the water either. I threw it all away as soon the thrall had left. Why are you drinking it so much – usually when we are together again you do not want it at all hardly? Please Fae… if it is something I have done then tell me and I will do whatever you want to make it right again?"  
"You have done nothing wrong Gil. Nothing at all."

She looked away from him, unable to meet his gaze. His hand came back to her face again and he stroked her skin, his own hot on her cheek and she trembled as she remembered the terrible heat of Baugbereth's touch as she had pushed her onto the floor to die. Her eyes shut and she groaned.  
"Am I hurting you Fae?"  
She shook her head again and he could not stand to look at her pain any longer. He put one hand around her shoulder and the other on the back of her neck and drew her to him as gently as he could, holding her to his chest so her head nestled into his neck. "Good. I never want to hurt you, or see you hurt. Did you die again Fae? It has been so long since we were together love… Was that the reason?"  
"Part of it yes."

Now they were not looking at each other it was a little easier. He held her tight to him now, not crushing her, but needing her very close. "Then tell me the rest. I want to know what they did to you to make you so sad and ill."  
"They made me hope again Gil. They tricked me and made me believe this was all a bad dream." Her voice was stronger now as she saw her way. She would tell the truth. Admit to everything and then Gil would end it. Kill her. She wanted him to do it. Send her back into the silence and emptiness. Even if it was only for a time. She wanted to die.  
"Everything. I dreamed I was back at the Lake and we were together again and not dead. Both beautiful again… so beautiful…"

She told him everything and still he held her. She began to tremble as he kissed the top of her head, yet still he said nothing. Finally he spoke. Gently. Simply.  
"It does not matter Fae. Truly. You are not to blame. They will pay for what they have done to us. I swear it."

"Why didst thou not tell him! He was bound to take her side…"  
Sauron looked coolly at his cruel queen and answered her in quiet tones.  
"Keep out of this Baugbereth. I will not tell thee again. Be content that thou hast achieved thy goal and that I shalt not breed with any of the ellyth again."  
"I appreciate that, for it is only logic fath… Sauron…"  
Her voice was conciliatory now, for though she had had her way in most things Sauron had made it very plain that things had changed between them since the birth of her half brother. No longer did they have the trustful, equal relationship they had enjoyed in Utumno, or at first here in Angband. Now it was better and yet worse since they had bred together. His will always prevailed and she now got her way only when it coincided with his. It galled her, but it had been worth the price.  
"… but it is not as though we need the thralls any longer is it? All the spawn I have birthed with thee, and with Melkor too, are without peer are they not? They are as intelligent as they need to be and of perfect temperament too?"  
"Yes. Thy yrchlings are everything we have envisioned Baugbereth. But if there is one thing for thee to learn from Melkor and his defeat, it is that thou cannot see all ends – nor I. So we will keep the breeding thralls progeny, since they are scarcely less in intellect than thine own broods for the most part - especially thy siblings. And we will continue with that breeding programme too – and that will include thy blood parents. Thy half brother and my two other hybrids also… especially my true daughter."  
"Thou art only keeping them because thou knoweth how much it galls me."

He laughed coldly at her. She would not learn that she could not thwart him and for some reason he tolerated it. She owed everything to him and knew it, and yet in this she always sought to challenge him, thinking she could persuade him to abandon the original breeding programme. He was tired of this constant wrangling and spoke directly to her mind to mind, so she could not fail to notice his supreme indifference to her wants and needs in this one thing.  
_And what doth that tell thee Baugbereth? Though all seems to bode well for our own broods I will continue in the original breeding programme because it intrigues me. _  
His will lashed out at her preventing her from retorting. A little thing, but she needed to be reminded occasionally that she would not always get her way. Especially in this.  
_There are other things at stake here and there are things that we can learn from the ellyth and even their mates yet. The Ainur have secured the Quendi as allies and so anything we can use against them must be useful. Knowledge is a tool. An asset. A key to victory like no other – Melkor was too proud at times and his fall is the result of his lack of understanding. I wilt not make that mistake. _

He paused a moment to reflect on the last year or more. He had had to resurrect Faenelloth time after time and finally had had to threaten her with Giliathmen's slow and permanent death to stop her constant suiciding. That had convinced him of his course in persisting with the breeding programme for he needed to know how strong the pair bond would be. How far it could be pushed. He spoke to Baugbereth again, his voice soft yet chilling in its objectivity.

"Whatever thou thinketh of thy bearer, however much thou hate her, I will not suffer any more attacks by thee upon her body or her sanity. The bond between thy blood parents appears to be inviolable and some of that is because of what we have done to them here. It has changed and that is fascinating to me at least. I would not tell her mate of her 'betrayal', nor would I allow thee to do so. I knew she would tell him herself if we did not. Just as I knew she would finally seek for him to punish her for her betrayal of their bond – and I admit I hoped he would not do so. That he would be able to mitigate it. Blame us, not her. Canst thou not see that this is important? A strength that is fallible and can be exploited? Manipulated – that at least should appeal to thee!"

He sighed as his mind stroked gently, sensitively over hers. The transition from daughter to mate had been disappointing in some ways, despite the undoubted excellence of their offspring.  
"These Quendi have great strength of mind and of spirit, but they can be broken, moulded. Understand this well - they are my experiment and I wilt not permit thine interference any longer. Accept it Baugbereth, and quickly now, because if thou canst not then I may be tempted to terminate the experiment that is centred upon thee. I still love thee as ever I did – thou art my helpmate and my spouse now, but make no mistake about this – interfere one more time out of malice or revenge and thou shalt suffer for it eternally, I promise thee."

"I hear thee my Lord and Husband. It shalt be as thou commandeth." She buried her other unspoken thought deep, where he would not pry. _For now._

"How can we oppose them Gil? It is impossible. At every turn they torment us. Will not even allow us to stay dead. They control us in every way. Read our thoughts. How can you make them pay for their cruelty?"  
He nodded grimly. She was right he knew, but there had to be a way. A reckoning had to be made. He drew her close again, needing to maintain contact and convince her that he would never doubt her, would always love and need her.  
"They are not all powerful. They have enemies – strong ones. The Dark God has gone. He has been taken prisoner by his brethren. There are many other Gods and they opposed him. They oppose the Demon Lord too. He and Baugbereth fear them. They are still hiding from them in this place. Maybe their enemies would help us?"  
"How do you know this Gil?"

He hesitated. They could be heard perhaps, but then few things here could be hidden and if they were punished as a result… What difference did it make to them after all? He realised she was amazed that he could 'forgive' her so easily for betraying their bond so badly, but he did not see it that way at all. She had been duped and manipulated and had truly thought he was with her, sharing her 'dream'. As she told him what had been done, her voice laden with an agony of remorse, he had only been outraged at the deception imposed on her and that the Demon Lord would go to such lengths with her to get a child that was almost an elf. Why did they want that when they had changed him and the other ellons so much. It made no sense, except that perhaps it was done simply to torture poor Fae – him as well presumably. Well that had not worked at least! He smiled and hugged her again, kissing her ear gently, then went on, his voice quiet and calm.

"The older thralls – sometimes they talk… those that can still. Not all of them were Elves…some were lesser demons… and they remember where they came from once. They were not always slaves. And they were not always bent to evil."  
"Sometimes I have heard them talk of their old brethren, but I thought they meant other Elves… But we females do not often hear them speak of anything."  
"They do not treat you and the other ellyth the same as us. You are precious to them, for all that they treat you so badly. When I am not with you, I am different. Angry all the time. I fight – I have to – with the other thralls. They call us daugs – soldiers. And the yrchlings too now. Sometimes they come to fight us and the Demon Lord watches us. They are turning the yrchlings we breed for them into savage killers – soldiers for a war they wish to wage on their enemies… and the Quendi are also their enemies Fae."

It was too much to take in and she was feeling so weak and dizzy now. The one thing she clung too was that he had not rejected her and would not allow her to punish herself. She felt a little less sullied as a result of his refusal to condemn her, but part of her still hated herself for what she had been tricked into doing. He would not let go of her as he spoke of these strange things he had heard in the time they had been apart and, as her exhaustion claimed her concentration, she burrowed into his warmth and finally took comfort in his presence as she had done before they had been brought to this terrible new prison.  
"Let me sleep a little melleth. I am so tired."  
"Of course beloved. I shall watch over you. Come, let us lie down together and I will hold you as you go to sleep. I missed you so much Fae."

And this was 'fascinating'? Baugbereth frowned in scorn at their pathetic attempts at defiance, then sighed and stroked her belly absently, once more full of Sauron's feisty yrchlings. She had promised not to interfere and she would not, but he had not forbidden her observing and listening to her blood parents. Maybe it was interesting in a way she thought to herself. The elleth knew that it was useless to oppose them by now but the thrall… he was always more alert when he was with his mate, but now it seemed he was also becoming more aware when he was away from her too. Or was it that the drugs fed to the thralls became less effective after a time?

Maybe she should speak of Giliathmen's rumour-mongering to Sauron? But then of course she would have to say how she discovered it… And it would be wrong to lie to her own mate of course. She smiled happily to herself. No doubt he was already aware of the older thralls' propensity to gossip… so she need not bother him with it at all. Perhaps this was just yet another of his experiments that she should not interfere with. Yes that was it. Nothing to do with her at all.

It was long before she was calm enough to talk to him again and both of them were glad of the respite. Aelial continued to hold her very gently, wanting now to support her as much as he could, hoping in some way to give her small comfort for the sake of his much loved brother Giliathmen, but also on his own behalf now. He dearly needed to make amends for his earlier revulsion, and because he was ashamed that he still wanted to stand back from her, even now that he had vowed to accept her. He _did_ accept her in his heart, was deeply moved by her plight now he understood things more, yet still his head cried out that she was too different and that Sûlranna's instincts were correct. That Aeglos was too ruined to come back to her people.

Letting Ingwë and Oromë judge the situation only made sense, he knew that, but part of him rebelled at the necessity. And so he would champion her as much as he knew how. For Giliathmen, and for his own sake. His brother had never abandoned the bond, despite all the attacks and humiliation heaped upon them both. Because of that he would not deny or abandon his brother's mate and he anyway was now convinced that Aeglos, even if she had sinned as she said and was obviously never going to forgive herself no matter what anyone else said or did, deserved mercy and much aid, for she had suffered so badly. Gil was gone now, into whatever void the fëa went to when the hröa died, but he was still here, and he would do his best to see his brother's spouse treated with all the honour and respect that had been reviled and trampled into the dirt by the 'wild animals' that had preyed upon her and his brother.

Aeglos sighed and at last spoke softly, moving away from him a little so she could look at Aelial and so he could see her fears and the price she had paid for a freedom that she was still in doubt over.

"I can tell you now – about how Giliathman and I escaped and what we did together. But I need you to understand that we were both terrified of being recaptured and that, for him anyway there could be no hope of returning with me. No coming back to his kin, however much he wanted that."  
Aelial nodded gently, meeting her tormented blood-dark gaze with sorrow and kindness now.  
"I already believe you my sister. Tell me as you will. Whatever you can bear to tell."

_How close are they now?_  
Sauron's thoughts were quiet and cold in the Balrog's head.

_The foremost have passed over the mountains east of here and are in the Land of many Rivers_ [Beleriand]. _Most remain in the great southern forests [Greenwood] beyond the tall mountains and have not yet crossed into the Land between the Mountain Ranges _[Eriador]_._

He paused, sensing that the greater Demon was not as calm as he appeared to be. The Balrog was still wrapped in the darkness that he had been bidden to assume whilst he was observing the progress of the Quendi. Though his flames were eager to reassert themselves, he held them back, knowing that Sauron would be irritated at the brightness. The queen, Baugbereth, however had no such fears and he looked at her in a mixture of awe and trepidation as she turned to her Lord and urged him to take action.

_Fools! I say we can take them Sauron. Let Gothmog and I lead the daugs against them. There is only one Vala and they are a small clan…_

**"SILENCE!"**

His physical voice was like a thunderclap and echoed all about the Iron Hall of Thangorodrim. Both Baugbereth and Gothmog cringed a little at his ire and this was enough to allow him to resume his former composure. He would have dismissed the Balrog and dealt with Baugbereth there and then, but she had yet again failed to curb her inappropriate enthusiasm and this time in the presence of an inferior, though powerful in his own right. Fiery yellow eyes regarded his queen's dark, glittering gaze and still he admired her indomitable spirit, even as he regretted her constant, thoughtless aggression.  
She is still young. She will learn patience and guile yet.  
His thought - a frequent one these days - was gradually losing hope and he was not convinced she would learn in time. Maybe it was the form… She hardly ever changed her orc body these days and perhaps that was something to take into consideration with her. Later. He spoke distinctly and calmly once more, his words heavy and authoritative in their minds.

_Do __**not**__ underestimate the power of a Vala, Baugbereth. Melkor did and so he did not prevail against Tulkas. Oromë_ _has great strength too and he knows these lands as well as we do. This is not the time for us to reveal our own strength or even our position. Remember there are other Valar still in the West who will come to their aid and many other spirits who are as strong, or even stronger than I. Gothmog knows this as well._

Baugbereth bowed her head slightly, acknowledging her Lord's more informed assessment, but her dark eyes still glittered dangerously and she persisted a little more, though in more conciliatory tones.  
_But this vanguard is so small my husband – we have numbers enough now to overwhelm them twice, maybe thrice over. We will also take them by surprise and the Quendi expect no opposition… have no weapons… know not how to fight…_

_And still I say we wait. This is the smallest part of their migration – when the rest come then they shall outnumber us…_

_… but they travel so slowly my Lord! Surely we should seize this opportunity boldly and press our advantage now. We can always breed more quickly… __**ummmgggh. Arghhh!**_****

**_Enough!  
_**She had fallen to the ground shuddering with the pain of the mental blows. He looked on her coldly, but again spoke aloud, this time deathly quiet and distinct though both queen and Balrog could hear…

"They are not fools Baugbereth. Far from it. Thou thinkest that they will wait if we crush their leaders? They will come all the faster. Even if we could conquer Oromë he would alert the other Ainur simply by his absence, for he will not be defeated easily or at all – certainly not by thee! As for the Quendi not being prepared – we have only to look to our own thralls do we not? They learn how to fight very quickly if they are threatened and most fiercely in defence of their blood kin – as thine own blood father did!"

He looked harshly upon his two chief servants. The Balrog he could trust insofar as he feared him greatly and would not openly assail him whilst he knew that he could not hope to oppose his will and power by main strength, not even with Baugbereth as his ally. Already Gothmog and the others knew not to trust her, even if their causes seemed to coincide.  
"We do not ride or fly anywhere near the Quendi who march with Oromë. Understood?"

Two mute nods were given. He pressed his point home, eyes ablaze now with repressed anger and focussed solely on his spouse.  
"We continue as we have been with more new blood, when we need it, taken solely from the east as far as Cuiviénen. I want no hint of our presence or activities here in Angband betrayed to the Valar, or the Quendi closer to home. They must not know of or even suspect our existence. Not yet."

As Sauron and Baugbereth continued in their refinements to the breeding programme for the second and further generations or orcs, the focus for thralls like Giliathmen began to centre around their training in warfare more and more. He was put with Faenelloth less and less and in some ways there was not so much pressure on them to mate when they were. They wondered sometimes if they had been forgotten but whenever they tested the situation they were fed more stimulants, which they no longer resisted. Faenelloth no longer knew how many yrchlings she had borne for their captors, though in the latter years she often had twins and once even triplets.

The intervals between births and conceptions was certainly getting longer than when they had been in Utumno and whenever she and Giliathmen were reunited the toll, on him in particular was heavy. Every time he reappeared she could see fresh scars on his body, but it was always his spirit that was most markedly affected when he returned to her. Finally there came a day when he was brought to her unconscious. This had happened a few times before and he had always revived after a few minutes of being brought in. However this time it took several hours and when he did regain consciousness he lay still as stone on their hard bed, not saying a word to her. In a way she was glad he did not speak for she had no words. His entire torso front and back was covered in weals surrounded by burns, unclean scabs and open bite marks too, some of which were still festering. When he had opened his eyes and looked into hers she had kissed them shut for they were so sorrowful she could not bear to look on them.

"What have they done to you Gil?"  
He had just shaken his head slightly and turned over to face the wall. She had wept silently and laid down beside him, putting her skinny arms about him, holding him close and gave the only comfort she knew could reach him. Just five little words, interchangeable and true after all the terrible years, softly repeating them over and over like a litany, until they both slept.  
"You are still my mate... You are still my Giliathmen… You are still my mate…"

They awoke much later and knew they had been gone a long time for there were two lots of food and water left for them. Neither of them wanted the food, but they drank a little water together, still not saying a word to each other, both knowing they did not want to lose the clarity they had attained during their long sleep. When Giliathmen put down his mug, Faenelloth's hand clasped around his and she brought it up to gentle lips. At last he smiled a little as her breath, cool on his heated skin, brushed lightly over his swollen and cut knuckles.

"Ah Fae! What would I do if I did not have you?"  
His other hand reached over and took hers gently and brought it up to his face and laid it softly to his rough cheek, as his other arm went about her thin shoulders and pulled her close in to him.  
"Tell me what happened, Gil… Or is it too terrible?"  
"No more terrible in its way than anything else that has happened here to us beloved. But…"

He stopped, wondering if he should tell this to her, for it would hurt her most deeply. As it had hurt him. More than he could bear in fact. It tore at his heart, or at least what was left of it. He looked at her closely, thinking of all the other betrayals and evils they had both endured and knew he would tell her, for the truth was the last and only thing they shared and could give to each other, no matter how tarnished. And still they would not be broken. Nothing could break them apart anymore. Nothing at all. Not even this.

"I have been dead again, Fae. I was in a fight. A really bad one."  
She nodded a little, for this was plain to see. He needed to look at her properly and moved stiffly away from her, the pus encrusted wounds re-opening in places as he did so, to kneel on the floor before her. His hands clasped hers gently on her lap and his eyes were soft with love on hers.  
"Our daughter watched it. Watched me fight an Elf. Your son Fae. The Demon's son…"


	10. Chapter 10

"Fae? Please talk to me… What is the matter?"  
He had been in her cell for a long time now and she had barely spoken to him. All she wanted to do was drink the soporifics as soon as she began to wake and if he tried to withhold her water she just cried until he gave in, unable to bear seeing her so distressed. He could not understand how she could be so distraught until she had drunk herself back into unconsciousness again. He was appalled at how thin she was, but if she would not eat at all…

This time she could not escape him, for he had thrown all the water away the last time the thrall had brought some in. He could think more clearly at least and though he had a raging thirst, he had resolved to drink as little as possible this time. It was hard to keep track of time in here, but it had been so long since they had been together. This was the first time since they had been brought to this fortress and he knew she had been pregnant as usual so that explained a little but surely she could have had two birthings or more even since then. Sadly he brushed the dirty bone-pale hair away from her thin little face and smiled as well as he could at her as she opened her eyes and then held onto to her shoulder just firmly enough to prevent her turning to face the wall. He was sitting on the bench she had been sprawled on for most of the time he had been here.

"Fae. Please. There is no water so I cannot get you any. You have to talk to me my dear. What is wrong?"  
"No. Let me be. Let me die…"

Her voice was cracked and dry yet deathly quiet. He kept his grip on her, refusing to let her turn away. At least she was not crying, but then that was probably because she was so dehydrated… The thought gave him pause. He knew he was rarely this lucid and put the notion away for examination later on. For now she was his priority and he would make her see that he could not lose her. But she looked so frail and sad. He decided to wait a little. Give her a chance to shake the drug a little more. He would not let her go. His other hand came up to her face and he gently stroked her face with the back, making sure his claws could not hurt her.  
"Please, Gil. Let me be."

He shook his head and held her remorselessly as she tried to wriggle free of his grasp. She was too weak to struggle for long and so she gave up and lay back again defeated, unable even to cry any more.  
"Let me go please. I cannot stay. Not this time, Gil. Please."  
"Why, Fae? It has been so long since we were together and I have missed you so much Fae. What have I done? I do not understand…"  
He stopped when he saw the despairing expression on her face and if he could have still he would have cried himself. For long moments he paused, waiting for her to do something, say something, she just stared at him, as though she were in hell and he was something she had thought lost to her.  
"Ah Fae! I cannot bear to see you like this… what have I done? Have I hurt you somehow? Please tell me melleth and I will make amends however I can. Forgive me, please – I beg of you."

"You sound… different?" She was coming round and she needed to go back into the dark senseless silence so much, but he was looking at her with such love and pain… was so concerned… Behaving so considerately. Had they not told him what had happened? She had said they would, but if they had, then surely Gil would not be this gentle with her? He should be raging at her. At her betrayal.  
"So do you now. Are you feeling more awake my dear?"  
She nodded slowly at him and again he smiled kindly at her in his own way. He could not know then. Was this yet another of their tricks?  
"I have not been drinking the water either. I threw it all away as soon the thrall had left. Why are you drinking it so much – usually when we are together again you do not want it at all hardly? Please Fae… if it is something I have done then tell me and I will do whatever you want to make it right again?"  
"You have done nothing wrong Gil. Nothing at all."

She looked away from him, unable to meet his gaze. His hand came back to her face again and he stroked her skin, his own hot on her cheek and she trembled as she remembered the terrible heat of Baugbereth's touch as she had pushed her onto the floor to die. Her eyes shut and she groaned.  
"Am I hurting you Fae?"  
She shook her head again and he could not stand to look at her pain any longer. He put one hand around her shoulder and the other on the back of her neck and drew her to him as gently as he could, holding her to his chest so her head nestled into his neck. "Good. I never want to hurt you, or see you hurt. Did you die again Fae? It has been so long since we were together love… Was that the reason?"  
"Part of it yes."

Now they were not looking at each other it was a little easier. He held her tight to him now, not crushing her, but needing her very close. "Then tell me the rest. I want to know what they did to you to make you so sad and ill."  
"They made me hope again Gil. They tricked me and made me believe this was all a bad dream." Her voice was stronger now as she saw her way. She would tell the truth. Admit to everything and then Gil would end it. Kill her. She wanted him to do it. Send her back into the silence and emptiness. Even if it was only for a time. She wanted to die.  
"Everything. I dreamed I was back at the Lake and we were together again and not dead. Both beautiful again… so beautiful…"

She told him everything and still he held her. She began to tremble as he kissed the top of her head, yet still he said nothing. Finally he spoke. Gently. Simply.  
"It does not matter Fae. Truly. You are not to blame. They will pay for what they have done to us. I swear it."

"Why didst thou not tell him! He was bound to take her side…"  
Sauron looked coolly at his cruel queen and answered her in quiet tones.  
"Keep out of this Baugbereth. I will not tell thee again. Be content that thou hast achieved thy goal and that I shalt not breed with any of the ellyth again."  
"I appreciate that, for it is only logic fath… Sauron…"  
Her voice was conciliatory now, for though she had had her way in most things Sauron had made it very plain that things had changed between them since the birth of her half brother. No longer did they have the trustful, equal relationship they had enjoyed in Utumno, or at first here in Angband. Now it was better and yet worse since they had bred together. His will always prevailed and she now got her way only when it coincided with his. It galled her, but it had been worth the price.  
"… but it is not as though we need the thralls any longer is it? All the spawn I have birthed with thee, and with Melkor too, are without peer are they not? They are as intelligent as they need to be and of perfect temperament too?"  
"Yes. Thy yrchlings are everything we have envisioned Baugbereth. But if there is one thing for thee to learn from Melkor and his defeat, it is that thou cannot see all ends – nor I. So we will keep the breeding thralls progeny, since they are scarcely less in intellect than thine own broods for the most part - especially thy siblings. And we will continue with that breeding programme too – and that will include thy blood parents. Thy half brother and my two other hybrids also… especially my true daughter."  
"Thou art only keeping them because thou knoweth how much it galls me."

He laughed coldly at her. She would not learn that she could not thwart him and for some reason he tolerated it. She owed everything to him and knew it, and yet in this she always sought to challenge him, thinking she could persuade him to abandon the original breeding programme. He was tired of this constant wrangling and spoke directly to her mind to mind, so she could not fail to notice his supreme indifference to her wants and needs in this one thing.  
_And what doth that tell thee Baugbereth? Though all seems to bode well for our own broods I will continue in the original breeding programme because it intrigues me. _  
His will lashed out at her preventing her from retorting. A little thing, but she needed to be reminded occasionally that she would not always get her way. Especially in this.  
_There are other things at stake here and there are things that we can learn from the ellyth and even their mates yet. The Ainur have secured the Quendi as allies and so anything we can use against them must be useful. Knowledge is a tool. An asset. A key to victory like no other – Melkor was too proud at times and his fall is the result of his lack of understanding. I wilt not make that mistake. _

He paused a moment to reflect on the last year or more. He had had to resurrect Faenelloth time after time and finally had had to threaten her with Giliathmen's slow and permanent death to stop her constant suiciding. That had convinced him of his course in persisting with the breeding programme for he needed to know how strong the pair bond would be. How far it could be pushed. He spoke to Baugbereth again, his voice soft yet chilling in its objectivity.

"Whatever thou thinketh of thy bearer, however much thou hate her, I will not suffer any more attacks by thee upon her body or her sanity. The bond between thy blood parents appears to be inviolable and some of that is because of what we have done to them here. It has changed and that is fascinating to me at least. I would not tell her mate of her 'betrayal', nor would I allow thee to do so. I knew she would tell him herself if we did not. Just as I knew she would finally seek for him to punish her for her betrayal of their bond – and I admit I hoped he would not do so. That he would be able to mitigate it. Blame us, not her. Canst thou not see that this is important? A strength that is fallible and can be exploited? Manipulated – that at least should appeal to thee!"

He sighed as his mind stroked gently, sensitively over hers. The transition from daughter to mate had been disappointing in some ways, despite the undoubted excellence of their offspring.  
"These Quendi have great strength of mind and of spirit, but they can be broken, moulded. Understand this well - they are my experiment and I wilt not permit thine interference any longer. Accept it Baugbereth, and quickly now, because if thou canst not then I may be tempted to terminate the experiment that is centred upon thee. I still love thee as ever I did – thou art my helpmate and my spouse now, but make no mistake about this – interfere one more time out of malice or revenge and thou shalt suffer for it eternally, I promise thee."

"I hear thee my Lord and Husband. It shalt be as thou commandeth." She buried her other unspoken thought deep, where he would not pry. _For now._

"How can we oppose them Gil? It is impossible. At every turn they torment us. Will not even allow us to stay dead. They control us in every way. Read our thoughts. How can you make them pay for their cruelty?"  
He nodded grimly. She was right he knew, but there had to be a way. A reckoning had to be made. He drew her close again, needing to maintain contact and convince her that he would never doubt her, would always love and need her.  
"They are not all powerful. They have enemies – strong ones. The Dark God has gone. He has been taken prisoner by his brethren. There are many other Gods and they opposed him. They oppose the Demon Lord too. He and Baugbereth fear them. They are still hiding from them in this place. Maybe their enemies would help us?"  
"How do you know this Gil?"

He hesitated. They could be heard perhaps, but then few things here could be hidden and if they were punished as a result… What difference did it make to them after all? He realised she was amazed that he could 'forgive' her so easily for betraying their bond so badly, but he did not see it that way at all. She had been duped and manipulated and had truly thought he was with her, sharing her 'dream'. As she told him what had been done, her voice laden with an agony of remorse, he had only been outraged at the deception imposed on her and that the Demon Lord would go to such lengths with her to get a child that was almost an elf. Why did they want that when they had changed him and the other ellons so much. It made no sense, except that perhaps it was done simply to torture poor Fae – him as well presumably. Well that had not worked at least! He smiled and hugged her again, kissing her ear gently, then went on, his voice quiet and calm.

"The older thralls – sometimes they talk… those that can still. Not all of them were Elves…some were lesser demons… and they remember where they came from once. They were not always slaves. And they were not always bent to evil."  
"Sometimes I have heard them talk of their old brethren, but I thought they meant other Elves… But we females do not often hear them speak of anything."  
"They do not treat you and the other ellyth the same as us. You are precious to them, for all that they treat you so badly. When I am not with you, I am different. Angry all the time. I fight – I have to – with the other thralls. They call us daugs – soldiers. And the yrchlings too now. Sometimes they come to fight us and the Demon Lord watches us. They are turning the yrchlings we breed for them into savage killers – soldiers for a war they wish to wage on their enemies… and the Quendi are also their enemies Fae."

It was too much to take in and she was feeling so weak and dizzy now. The one thing she clung too was that he had not rejected her and would not allow her to punish herself. She felt a little less sullied as a result of his refusal to condemn her, but part of her still hated herself for what she had been tricked into doing. He would not let go of her as he spoke of these strange things he had heard in the time they had been apart and, as her exhaustion claimed her concentration, she burrowed into his warmth and finally took comfort in his presence as she had done before they had been brought to this terrible new prison.  
"Let me sleep a little melleth. I am so tired."  
"Of course beloved. I shall watch over you. Come, let us lie down together and I will hold you as you go to sleep. I missed you so much Fae."

And this was 'fascinating'? Baugbereth frowned in scorn at their pathetic attempts at defiance, then sighed and stroked her belly absently, once more full of Sauron's feisty yrchlings. She had promised not to interfere and she would not, but he had not forbidden her observing and listening to her blood parents. Maybe it was interesting in a way she thought to herself. The elleth knew that it was useless to oppose them by now but the thrall… he was always more alert when he was with his mate, but now it seemed he was also becoming more aware when he was away from her too. Or was it that the drugs fed to the thralls became less effective after a time?

Maybe she should speak of Giliathmen's rumour-mongering to Sauron? But then of course she would have to say how she discovered it… And it would be wrong to lie to her own mate of course. She smiled happily to herself. No doubt he was already aware of the older thralls' propensity to gossip… so she need not bother him with it at all. Perhaps this was just yet another of his experiments that she should not interfere with. Yes that was it. Nothing to do with her at all.

It was long before she was calm enough to talk to him again and both of them were glad of the respite. Aelial continued to hold her very gently, wanting now to support her as much as he could, hoping in some way to give her small comfort for the sake of his much loved brother Giliathmen, but also on his own behalf now. He dearly needed to make amends for his earlier revulsion, and because he was ashamed that he still wanted to stand back from her, even now that he had vowed to accept her. He _did_ accept her in his heart, was deeply moved by her plight now he understood things more, yet still his head cried out that she was too different and that Sûlranna's instincts were correct. That Aeglos was too ruined to come back to her people.

Letting Ingwë and Oromë judge the situation only made sense, he knew that, but part of him rebelled at the necessity. And so he would champion her as much as he knew how. For Giliathmen, and for his own sake. His brother had never abandoned the bond, despite all the attacks and humiliation heaped upon them both. Because of that he would not deny or abandon his brother's mate and he anyway was now convinced that Aeglos, even if she had sinned as she said and was obviously never going to forgive herself no matter what anyone else said or did, deserved mercy and much aid, for she had suffered so badly. Gil was gone now, into whatever void the fëa went to when the hröa died, but he was still here, and he would do his best to see his brother's spouse treated with all the honour and respect that had been reviled and trampled into the dirt by the 'wild animals' that had preyed upon her and his brother.

Aeglos sighed and at last spoke softly, moving away from him a little so she could look at Aelial and so he could see her fears and the price she had paid for a freedom that she was still in doubt over.

"I can tell you now – about how Giliathman and I escaped and what we did together. But I need you to understand that we were both terrified of being recaptured and that, for him anyway there could be no hope of returning with me. No coming back to his kin, however much he wanted that."  
Aelial nodded gently, meeting her tormented blood-dark gaze with sorrow and kindness now.  
"I already believe you my sister. Tell me as you will. Whatever you can bear to tell."

_How close are they now?_  
Sauron's thoughts were quiet and cold in the Balrog's head.

_The foremost have passed over the mountains east of here and are in the Land of many Rivers_ [Beleriand]. _Most remain in the great southern forests [Greenwood] beyond the tall mountains and have not yet crossed into the Land between the Mountain Ranges _[Eriador]_._

He paused, sensing that the greater Demon was not as calm as he appeared to be. The Balrog was still wrapped in the darkness that he had been bidden to assume whilst he was observing the progress of the Quendi. Though his flames were eager to reassert themselves, he held them back, knowing that Sauron would be irritated at the brightness. The queen, Baugbereth, however had no such fears and he looked at her in a mixture of awe and trepidation as she turned to her Lord and urged him to take action.

_Fools! I say we can take them Sauron. Let Gothmog and I lead the daugs against them. There is only one Vala and they are a small clan…_

**"SILENCE!"**

His physical voice was like a thunderclap and echoed all about the Iron Hall of Thangorodrim. Both Baugbereth and Gothmog cringed a little at his ire and this was enough to allow him to resume his former composure. He would have dismissed the Balrog and dealt with Baugbereth there and then, but she had yet again failed to curb her inappropriate enthusiasm and this time in the presence of an inferior, though powerful in his own right. Fiery yellow eyes regarded his queen's dark, glittering gaze and still he admired her indomitable spirit, even as he regretted her constant, thoughtless aggression.  
She is still young. She will learn patience and guile yet.  
His thought - a frequent one these days - was gradually losing hope and he was not convinced she would learn in time. Maybe it was the form… She hardly ever changed her orc body these days and perhaps that was something to take into consideration with her. Later. He spoke distinctly and calmly once more, his words heavy and authoritative in their minds.

_Do __**not**__ underestimate the power of a Vala, Baugbereth. Melkor did and so he did not prevail against Tulkas. Oromë_ _has great strength too and he knows these lands as well as we do. This is not the time for us to reveal our own strength or even our position. Remember there are other Valar still in the West who will come to their aid and many other spirits who are as strong, or even stronger than I. Gothmog knows this as well._

Baugbereth bowed her head slightly, acknowledging her Lord's more informed assessment, but her dark eyes still glittered dangerously and she persisted a little more, though in more conciliatory tones.  
_But this vanguard is so small my husband – we have numbers enough now to overwhelm them twice, maybe thrice over. We will also take them by surprise and the Quendi expect no opposition… have no weapons… know not how to fight…_

_And still I say we wait. This is the smallest part of their migration – when the rest come then they shall outnumber us…_

_… but they travel so slowly my Lord! Surely we should seize this opportunity boldly and press our advantage now. We can always breed more quickly… __**ummmgggh. Arghhh!**_****

**_Enough!  
_**She had fallen to the ground shuddering with the pain of the mental blows. He looked on her coldly, but again spoke aloud, this time deathly quiet and distinct though both queen and Balrog could hear…

"They are not fools Baugbereth. Far from it. Thou thinkest that they will wait if we crush their leaders? They will come all the faster. Even if we could conquer Oromë he would alert the other Ainur simply by his absence, for he will not be defeated easily or at all – certainly not by thee! As for the Quendi not being prepared – we have only to look to our own thralls do we not? They learn how to fight very quickly if they are threatened and most fiercely in defence of their blood kin – as thine own blood father did!"

He looked harshly upon his two chief servants. The Balrog he could trust insofar as he feared him greatly and would not openly assail him whilst he knew that he could not hope to oppose his will and power by main strength, not even with Baugbereth as his ally. Already Gothmog and the others knew not to trust her, even if their causes seemed to coincide.  
"We do not ride or fly anywhere near the Quendi who march with Oromë. Understood?"

Two mute nods were given. He pressed his point home, eyes ablaze now with repressed anger and focussed solely on his spouse.  
"We continue as we have been with more new blood, when we need it, taken solely from the east as far as Cuiviénen. I want no hint of our presence or activities here in Angband betrayed to the Valar, or the Quendi closer to home. They must not know of or even suspect our existence. Not yet."

As Sauron and Baugbereth continued in their refinements to the breeding programme for the second and further generations or orcs, the focus for thralls like Giliathmen began to centre around their training in warfare more and more. He was put with Faenelloth less and less and in some ways there was not so much pressure on them to mate when they were. They wondered sometimes if they had been forgotten but whenever they tested the situation they were fed more stimulants, which they no longer resisted. Faenelloth no longer knew how many yrchlings she had borne for their captors, though in the latter years she often had twins and once even triplets.

The intervals between births and conceptions was certainly getting longer than when they had been in Utumno and whenever she and Giliathmen were reunited the toll, on him in particular was heavy. Every time he reappeared she could see fresh scars on his body, but it was always his spirit that was most markedly affected when he returned to her. Finally there came a day when he was brought to her unconscious. This had happened a few times before and he had always revived after a few minutes of being brought in. However this time it took several hours and when he did regain consciousness he lay still as stone on their hard bed, not saying a word to her. In a way she was glad he did not speak for she had no words. His entire torso front and back was covered in weals surrounded by burns, unclean scabs and open bite marks too, some of which were still festering. When he had opened his eyes and looked into hers she had kissed them shut for they were so sorrowful she could not bear to look on them.

"What have they done to you Gil?"  
He had just shaken his head slightly and turned over to face the wall. She had wept silently and laid down beside him, putting her skinny arms about him, holding him close and gave the only comfort she knew could reach him. Just five little words, interchangeable and true after all the terrible years, softly repeating them over and over like a litany, until they both slept.  
"You are still my mate... You are still my Giliathmen… You are still my mate…"

They awoke much later and knew they had been gone a long time for there were two lots of food and water left for them. Neither of them wanted the food, but they drank a little water together, still not saying a word to each other, both knowing they did not want to lose the clarity they had attained during their long sleep. When Giliathmen put down his mug, Faenelloth's hand clasped around his and she brought it up to gentle lips. At last he smiled a little as her breath, cool on his heated skin, brushed lightly over his swollen and cut knuckles.

"Ah Fae! What would I do if I did not have you?"  
His other hand reached over and took hers gently and brought it up to his face and laid it softly to his rough cheek, as his other arm went about her thin shoulders and pulled her close in to him.  
"Tell me what happened, Gil… Or is it too terrible?"  
"No more terrible in its way than anything else that has happened here to us beloved. But…"

He stopped, wondering if he should tell this to her, for it would hurt her most deeply. As it had hurt him. More than he could bear in fact. It tore at his heart, or at least what was left of it. He looked at her closely, thinking of all the other betrayals and evils they had both endured and knew he would tell her, for the truth was the last and only thing they shared and could give to each other, no matter how tarnished. And still they would not be broken. Nothing could break them apart anymore. Nothing at all. Not even this.

"I have been dead again, Fae. I was in a fight. A really bad one."  
She nodded a little, for this was plain to see. He needed to look at her properly and moved stiffly away from her, the pus encrusted wounds re-opening in places as he did so, to kneel on the floor before her. His hands clasped hers gently on her lap and his eyes were soft with love on hers.  
"Our daughter watched it. Watched me fight an Elf. Your son Fae. The Demon's son…"


End file.
